


DGM Plot Bunny Round-Up

by devixenrox85



Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: 18th Century, Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - 17th Century, Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Condoms, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Dancer! Allen, Dog!Timcanpy, Dry Humping, Established Relationship, F/M, Female Allen Walker, Flashbacks, Footsie, Friends to Lovers, Hand Jobs, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Inspired by those prompts at least, Lingerie, Minor Character Death, Past Cyber bullying, Poker Pair Week 2019, PokerPair (D.Gray-Man), Pole Dancing, Smut, Thirty Years War, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Vlogger! Road, Writer! Tyki
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:54:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 49,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22705795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/devixenrox85/pseuds/devixenrox85
Summary: Have you ever tried to focus on writing one story, but your brain kept assaulting you with ideas and plot bunnies? Yeah, that’s the situation I’m in right now. I have nothing to blame but my fertile imagination… and PokerPair week 2k19 prompts… and fanfictions… actually, it’s more of a collaborative effort. In the end, I decided to just post them in this story and see what you guys think of them. These guys are more like rough drafts than anything, so they don’t get the same level of research I try to put in my other stories. So if you read anything that’s factually wrong, please let me know by a comment.
Relationships: Fem!Allen Walker/Tyki Mikk, Past Howard Link/Allen Walker, Tyki Mikk/Allen Walker
Comments: 4
Kudos: 21





	1. The Bargain

**Author's Note:**

> Beware: not all tags apply to every story, so check the beginning notes of each chapter to figure out what you're in for.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Desperate times call for desperate measures... especially if you're facing the Thirty Years War.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was inspired by one of the prompts for Day 3 of PokerPair week 2k19 – Gods AU. I then combined it with a 17th century setting; mainly because I’m a fan of Eric Flint’s 1632 series. Though this story isn’t itself a crossover. However, I do recommend it if you’re a fan of alternate history fiction. The first edition of the first novel, 1632, is even free to download from the publisher’s website (Baen.com).
> 
> Warning: Fem!Allen; PokerPair; Possible OOC-ness; Artistic license applied to history
> 
> Disclaimer: Yup, still don’t own D.Gray-man. Not even a omake.

_**The Bargain** _

**Holy Roman Empire, Spring 1631**

_'This is a bad idea,'_ Ellen’s more rational side hissed to her. _'If the Black Order ever finds out what you’re about to do, you will be imprisoned post haste!’_

_'But what about your friends?'_ her emotional side implored. _'If you decide against doing this, then there was a real chance they will be killed in battle.’_

_'There were other ways to help them,'_ her rational side insisted.

_'What are they? You are forbidden from going onto the battlefield.’_

_‘Like that has stopped me before.’_

_'Yes, and that is why Komui will have you under constant guard from the morning of their departure to a fortnight after.’_

_‘I have traveled with Master Cross Marian. If I can evade his debt collectors, I can certainly outwit the Order’s guards.’_

_‘And you do not think that Komui has not taken that into account?’_

Ellen’s rational side paused before continuing on, _'Fine. But this is just too big a risk. Should anyone catch wind of this, they will cry heresy.’_

_‘Like you really care about God,’_ Ellen’s emotional side scoffed.

_'No, I do not. But neither do I want to die.’_

Ellen broke out of her internal monologue when she felt something tugging on her skirt. Her little terrier Timcanpy held the garment in his maw and whined as he looked up with his dark eyes.

“I am fine, Tim,” Ellen reassured the golden-furred dog as she scratched him behind the ears. He whimpered in return, not quite convinced, but licked the inside of her wrist.

She cast her eyes to the items she had arranged in front of her. Flowers, fruit, and bottles of alcohol rested in the center of an improvised altar made from stone. Gathering them had proved to be a challenge. Oh, the flowers were easy enough. The meadows were filled with wildflowers at this time of year. Only a half hour was needed to pick enough blossoms to fill her apron. The fruit was more difficult as, since the closest orchard belonged to a miserly nobleman and thus was heavily guarded, it needed to be purchased at market. Still, she managed to get a respectable amount of pears and cherries. But then there was the alcohol: red wine, to be specific. Not only did she loathe it due to its intoxicating effects, she could not even look at a bottle without thinking about all the coins her master had spent on drink. Nevertheless, it was needed. So Ellen had no choice but to buy a few bottles, explaining to the vendor that she was preparing for whenever Master Cross deigned to visit the Order. Having already encountered the priest, he questioned nothing.

Towards the back was a small mirror, its reflective side pointing up at the cave’s ceiling. Ellen was worried it wasn’t big enough, but she didn’t dare try to take any of the larger ones. Those were placed in more prominent places in the building that housed the Black Order. She didn’t want anyone to wonder at such a disappearance. The small mirror, by contrast, had been in one of the seldom used rooms that Ellen cleaned out a few days ago. It’s rough wooden frame and layers of dust further gave it an air of dullness, but the mirror itself still reflected objects accurately. And that’s all that mattered to her.

Finally, at the very front of the altar were two clay dishes. The smaller dish was set to the left and had a knitted nightcap resting within it. The larger dish was in the center and contained Spanish tobacco arranged in the shape of a butterfly. She could have used incense but, as with the mirror, she didn’t want to take the risk. The tobacco cost more but was the same type that her master smoked, so its quality was assured.

_'I cannot believe the day has come when I’m glad about Master’s pickiness regarding his vices,'_ Ellen dryly noted to herself.

She raised her right hand and touched one of the three candles surrounding the larger dish, then briefly glanced at the five surrounding the smaller dish. She originally was going to use tallow candles; cheap and made of animal fat, they didn’t smell as nice as the beeswax ones. But the Order’s supply of beeswax candles was large enough that Komui let Ellen and the others have free access to them. And she was already in the habit of borrowing candles to complete the tasks she took on to earn extra money. Thus no unknown observer would think it suspicious should they see her take a few more…

She let out a heavy sigh. She realized that the inane direction her thoughts had taken served no other purpose but to delay the inevitable. For all the good points not to continue on with this mad plan of hers, Ellen knew in her heart that she will do so regardless of the consequences. For the first time since her father figure had died nearly five years ago, she had found a place that she could call home. But because of the times they lived in, many of her friends now must fight to protect the ‘true faith.’

And thus her desire to protect her friends had led her to this moment.

_‘No turning back now,’_ Ellen grimly decided as she reached though the side-slit of her skirt and pulled out a piece of flint and a small steel knife from her pocket. She walked up to the altar and took a candle from those surrounding the smaller dish. Then the young woman walked over to the small pile of tinder she had gathered just minutes ago. After numerous tries, Ellen finally managed to light the candle. The others were lit soon after. And once she had eight flames delicately flickering in the darkness, she took the top candle from those surrounding the larger dish (the first candle she lit having already been placed back in its original position) and ignited the tobacco butterfly.

Once the smoke began to rise from the dish, Ellen closed her eyes, lowered her head, clasped her trembling hands and prayed.

-x-

**“Joyd, you have a prayer request.”**

**“So why tell me this yourself, Wisely? We get them all the time...”**

**“Because it’s coming from the lands that overthrew the Romans.”**

**“Oh? Now that sounds _interesting_...”**

-x-

Ellen kept silent as she prayed, though the tobacco smoke now filling the cave threatened to irritate her lungs. She didn’t know how long she was supposed to keep praying – the grimoire she got the ceremony from didn’t specify that detail – and it was hard to tell how much time had passed. Though in a horrible way, Miranda’s bad habit of staying awake for days on end came in handy this night; both she and Lenalee were dead asleep when Ellen had sneaked out of their shared room.

Her eyes snapped wide once she heard Tim bark madly at her side. But before she could scold him for making too much noise, her gaze fell upon the altar and she let out a gasp of shock. Instead of rising up to the cave’s ceiling and floating towards the exit, the smoke curled around the candles and offerings and drifted towards the back. She walked around the altar, not noticing that her dog now fell silent, to see exactly where the smoke was going.

When Ellen got close enough, she saw that it was gathering right above the mirror. Swirling like the whirlpools she had heard of from sailors, the smoke built up until it covered the entire altar. Yet the candles were not extinguished…

The young woman was startled when the vortex of smoke began to glow with an eerie purple light. She moved back to the front of the altar, grabbed Timcanpy, and watched in stunned silence as a figure – a man – emerged from the vortex. He stood on the altar for a few moments, moving his head as if looking for something. Soon their gazes locked, and again Ellen gasped. Golden irises, narrow pupils – such mesmerizing eyes burned into her wide set of silver.

Those eyes held her own for a few more seconds. Then they shifted down to take in her face, and then her figure. The candles, amazingly, were still lit, so it wasn’t too difficult a task for him to see her. And visibility worked two ways, meaning that Ellen could see him as well. She couldn’t help but silently marvel at his dark hair, warm brown skin, and a monochrome-clad physique that would rival the few Classical-inspired statues she glanced at during her travels across the Italian peninsula with Cross. There was even a small mole under his left eye. Over all he appeared to be a man who could compel even the most virtuous woman to consider committing the sin of fornication. Others less virtuous – well, they would move past the considering and go straight to the committing.

But though he appeared to be a man, she knew he wasn’t one. Those black stigmata markings upon his forehead were proof enough.

Ellen broke from her thoughts when she heard a deep, rich chuckle. She felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment when she caught sight of his amused expression; no doubt he noticed her shameless staring.

“So, you are the one who prayed to me?” he asked in such a smooth voice.

“Ah, yes I am,” she nodded, hoping she didn’t sound witless in front of him. “I assume you are Joyd, the Noah God of Pleasure?”

His grin widened as he stepped off of the altar and onto the floor beside it. He made his way over to her, ignoring Timcanpy’s warning growls. “You got it,” he said as he came to a stop right next to her. “And what are your and your watch dog’s names?”

“My name is Ellen Walker. And his is Timcanpy. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she responded and gave a curtsy in return, Tim still held in her arms.

Joyd chuckled and purred out, “Actually, I believe the _pleasure_ is all mine.” He reached out and brushed a stray strand of hair from Ellen’s face, earning a blush from her and more growls from her terrier.

“So why did you send a prayer to me?”

Ellen felt her embarrassment and nervousness disappear at his question. She straighten herself out, looked him in the eye and said, “I wanted to request your protection.”

Joyd raised an eyebrow in bemusement. “Oh? Protection from what? An over zealous suitor?”

Her lips thinned and eyes narrowed at his rather flippant jape. “No,” she corrected him, “I would like you to protect my friends going off to war.”

Now Joyd looked at her with surprise. He didn’t get that type of request very often. “You want me to protect a group of soldiers?”

“Yes,” she confirmed.

“Are they such poor fighters you would request their protection?”

“No, quite the opposite really,” Ellen shook her head. “But skill alone is no guarantee of survival on the battlefield. A small opening, better-laid plans, one instance of luck – it can take very little for an opponent to kill them.”

Joyd looked away in contemplation. “Hmm, you do have a point there. Still, death is a part of war. Why do you go to such lengths to protect them?”

She let out a shuddering breath as her male friends came to mind: cheerful Lavi, trouble making Daisya, calm Marie… and yes, even that arsehole Kanda. “Because they are family.”

“So will you do it?” She pressed, trying to keep her inner desperation from leaking into her tone.

Joyd turned back to the altar and stared at the fruit and flowers. He grabbed a pear and contemplated it for a few moments. “I can, but for a price.”

Ellen wasn’t surprised. She hadn’t expected him to help her for free, after all. “And that ‘price’ would be…?”

He took a bite out the pear. “It depends: How long do you want me to protect your friends? A month? A year? For the rest of their days? The longer the time, the larger the price you would have to pay.”

That did make sense. “Do I need to pay it all at once?” she asked as he finished eating.

“No,” Joyd shook his head as he tossed the fruit core behind him. “So long as you keep up with the payments on a regular basis, I’ll continue protecting your friends. Though I don’t recommend going a month without offering anything; otherwise I would revoke said protection.”

Ellen looked down in thought. If she was careful enough, she could make payments every two weeks without anyone else noticing. “I would have to take on more extra tasks, but surely I can handle it. Can I use the same goods offered to you today?”

“You could,” he confirmed, walking over to her again with a grin. He leaned into her personal space, once again ignoring an angry Timcanpy. “But getting the same things time and again sounds boring, right?”

“Oh- well, yes I would imagine so. Exactly what would you want, then?”

His grin grew wider as he looked down at her. “It’s not too hard to figure out, really,” he told her. “I am the Noah God of Pleasure. As such, the offerings I accept are related to that concept.”

Ellen felt her cheeks grow hot with his close proximity to her person. “Related to pleasure?”

“Exactly. Good food, interesting diversions; anything that gives someone pleasure can count.”

“So that means you can accept a large variety of objects...” she whispered to herself, intrigued by the possibilities. Her savings might not take as big of a hit as she previously thought. One less thing to worry about.

Joyd let out a devious chuckle that captured her attention. “Oh, not just objects. Experiences can count as well.” He took a gentle but firm hold of her chin and tilted her head back enough so that they locked gazes. His other hand then wrapped around and rested at the small of her back.

“And exactly what kind of experiences would you find… pleasurable?” Ellen asked, hoping that the god hadn’t noticed how her voice became slightly breathless at the end.

The amusement growing in his eyes let her know that that hope was rather futile. “No need to play coy, girl. You know _exactly_ what I’m referring to. But if you want me to give you a demonstration, then I’m happy to oblige.”

He began to lean down, his handsome face drawing closer to her own. Ellen was no fool, she knew exactly what he was about to do. But she was conflicted. Half of her was adamant that she break out of his hold and make it clear that she would share no such _experiences_ with him. The other half, one who looked upon the moments Ellen caught Cross… enjoying the company of loose women and young widows with curiosity, pointed out that a kiss was quite different from a maidenhead and thus the former could be safely given away. Though given how little she could afford to put into her bottom drawer as compared to paying off Cross’ debts, there was a real chance that she would die an old maid instead. Dying a virgin might have been perfectly reasonable for Queen Elizabeth I, but was another matter for a girl coming from a small Northumbrian village.

However, just as their lips were about to touch, Timcanpy decided that enough was enough and leaped out of Ellen’s arms to teach this stranger a lesson. His paws had no sooner hit the cave floor before he bounced up again with his fangs out, fully intent on biting Joyd’s thigh.

That plan immediately went south the moment the dog passed through the god.

Ellen’s wide eyes watched as Timcanpy came crashing down to the ground and rolled to a stop. The then quite confused terrier walked up to Joyd and tried to rest his left paw against the other’s leg. And like before, it seamlessly passed through.

The young woman tried to figure out what had just played out in front of her. The grimoire had listed varying amounts of information regarding the Noah gods. Joyd’s was among the more detailed entries. If she remembered correctly, he had the power of -

“Was that...” she whispered, diverting the god from disinterestedly watching Timcanpy, “was that your power of Choice?”

“Ah,” he chuckled with amusement, “so you already know about it?”

Ellen bit her bottom lip in uncertainty, drawing Joyd’s gaze. “Only the fact you are able to go through anything.”

“Well, not exactly anything,” he amended with a shrug of his shoulders. “But if it’s a force or being of the mortal realm, I can Choose whether or not it can affect me. Like an overprotective dog.”

Timcanpy growled in response.

“Or a pretty girl who’s too adorable for her own good,” he continued as the hand holding up her chin left its spot. He held it up in front of her face long enough for her gaze to focus on it, then moved it to rest on her right shoulder. And, without even the slightest sensation, the hand slowly moved inward.

Ellen was so stunned that she didn’t protest when it stopped in the middle of her chest. “Only that which I Choose to touch will ever feel my grip. As you can clearly see and feel, I’m not Choosing to touch anything in your body.” Joyd’s grin grew ever more devious. “However, that can change. If I decide that I actually do want to touch something...”

Her eyes grew wide as something cradled her beating heart.

“… Then I will, without touching anything else.”

She felt something rub the organ’s smooth surface, and choked when she realized that it was his thumb. The action could have been soothing, had it been done on her hand or even cheek; but the fact that it was being done on her heart only increased its rapid tempo.

“It’s a very useful power, indeed,” Joyd casually stated, being far too relaxed for the circumstances. He then looked up, as if trying to remember something. “Ah, I almost forgot. Remember how I mentioned I could protect your friends for the rest of their lives?” Ellen nodded, not feeling able to speak quite just yet. “Good. Now, obviously such a deal would require a high price,” his voice lowered to a whisper as he once again leaned in towards her. “To mortals like you, life is supposed to be precious; it’s not something that should be exchanged for goods alone. No, the price has to include something equally precious. Like… another life.”

She felt faint at that revelation. “Wait,” she tried to say over Tim’s renewed barking. It was accompanied with more biting attempts; they were just as successful as the first one. “If you… take my life, then how will you receive your offerings?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t take it right now,” Joyd clarified. “Like I said, it would part of the price. You would still have to offer other items before then. But once the time comes...”

Ellen bowed her head as she tried to come to terms with what the god had just told her. She looked back at him and questioned, “And you truly will protect them for the rest of their lives?”

Joyd raised an eyebrow in response to her insistent rhetoric. “Oh? Do you doubt the word of a god?” he asked, sounding both slightly miffed and very amused.

Her lips pressed together in a tight line as she responded with agitation, “Their lives are at stake. I need to make sure that how I ask this request will not harm them.”

“Alright, alright. No need to get upset,” he chuckled, causing her to feel great annoyance. “I guess this means you aren’t stupid. But yes; I’ll protect them from harm until their time comes.”

Ellen closed her eyes at his statement. She already knew that dealing with a Noah god came with great risk. It was not just merely the risk that came of other people finding out. The grimoire made itself clear that the Noah gods were… volatile at the best of times, and any agreements made required the human to fulfill their side by any means necessary. So to keep her friends from dying in battle, her own life must be used to secure their safety.

Strangely, the frantic beat of her heart started to relax once her mind focused on that last thought. A life to save others. To insure that they will return home, or at the very least reduce their chances of being killed by an enemy soldier.

_‘I truly do not want to die, but...’_

But with all other options closed off from her, either due to her gender, arrogant men with strong opinions and the power to back them, or just her own inner conflicts…

Ellen let out a quiet sigh before looking up once again. Surprisingly, that irritatingly attractive grin was no longer gracing Joyd’s face. Instead he was staring at her with- confusion? Then she remembered that he still had a hand around her heart; he was just as aware of her heartbeat as she was.

_‘So even a god can be caught off guard,’_ she thought with amusement while biting the inside of her cheek. After she got this sudden rush of mirth quietly under control, she looked him straight in the eye and said, “Then I humbly offer my life, among other gifts to be given beforehand, in exchange for you protecting my friends.”

**\- XXX -**

**Cultural Notes:**

**Holy Roman Empire: One of the strangest political states to come out of world history. Basically came into being after Pope Leo III made Charlemagne, King of the Franks,Emperor of the Roman Empire (ignoring the Byzantine emperor who still ruled what used to be the eastern part of the Roman Empire). Its territory comprised of several kingdoms, principalities, duchies, Free Imperial Cities… all over Central and Western Europe! Because of that, it was nearly impossible for the Holy Roman Emperor to collect taxes the way rulers of centralized states could. But despite being a hot mess, the Holy Roman Empire managed to hold on from 962 CE until being dissolved during the Napoleonic wars(1806 CE).**

**Grimoire: A book containing magic spells and instructions on how to make amulets/invoke supernatural creatures. While the term is European in origin, there are similar books all over the world.**

**Bottom drawer: UK term for where a girl would have kept her trousseau (the household linens, wedding clothes and other items a bride would bring into her marriage; the same as a dowry). Known as a hope chest in the US.**

**Queen Elizabeth I: King Henry VIII’s second surviving daughter; she’s pretty well known, so there’s not much for me to write about here. Seriously, she has a bunch of documentaries and books about her!**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, I ended on a cliffhanger. Like I mentioned in the author’s notes above, this is a plot bunny that I felt compelled to write so I can go back to writing Boto Cor de Rosa (in-progress on FF.net). And oooh, do I have plans for that one… provided I can appease the other plot bunnies I have running about. I did say I had a fertile imagination!
> 
> For anyone wondering why Tyki was referred to as Joyd, the answer is simple: that’s his name as a god. He doesn’t have the name ‘Tyki’ just yet…
> 
> Thanks for taking the time to read this! Please leave a comment; I can’t get enough of your feedback.


	2. 5th Millennium House Guests

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Having house guests has become a great deal more complicated...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one-shot is a bit more threadbare than the first one in this collection. The reason for that is explained down below, so please read until the end. I wasn't able to write stories last year on FF.net because Real Life came a’ knocking, but I plan on releasing at least two chapters this year both there and on here. So please enjoy this one!
> 
> Warning: PokerPair teasing; Fem!Allen Walker; Modern AU; Time travel; Probable OOC-ness; An American writing a Brit; Crack? (Is that the same as OOC or not?)
> 
> Chapter rating: T
> 
> Disclaimer: I have as much claim on D. Gray Man as that guy who sold the Eiffel tower.

_**5** **th** **Millennium House Guests** _

Of all the strange situations Ellen Walker had found herself in, this one certainly took the entire Christmas tin of biscuits.

The young twenty-one year old woman surveyed the group currently sitting on the settee opposite of her armchair. The youngest, a girl of about twelve years, turned her head this way and that to take in the view of the living room from her perch on the left seat cushion. The second guest, a sleepy looking boy in his late teens, seemed more preoccupied with sinking into the padded back of the settee. She wouldn’t be surprised if he nodded off right then and there.And the eldest, a man around her age, alternated from bemusedly watching the others’ antics and observing her as he sat in between them. They all had enough features in common – golden eyes, dark skin – for her to assume that they were related to some degree by blood. So far, nothing too unusual…

Until you realize that they were wearing clothing inappropriate for British winters. And black diamond marks on their foreheads. Oh, and that they’re from the fifth millennium, BCE.

No, she wasn’t pissed. And neither had she made it all up. All three of her house guests came from a distant time period, and were staying with her for the foreseeable future.

How did this even happen, you may ask?

Well, the answer is rather quite simple.

It was Komui Lee’s fault. Though several other members of the Black Order university science department were involved in creating that bloody time machine, thus earning themselves some blame, it would have never happened if not for one of the Chinese robotics/chemistry professor’s mad whims. Strange chemical elixirs, the Komulin series of robots – so many inventions had run rampant over the years that the complaints from the inevitable fallout were now depressingly routine.

This time however, instead of simply blowing up in their faces and leaving the university with another bill to cover, the machine had worked as intended. The cacophonous sounds of the flabbergasted scientists carried over to where she, Komui’s sister Lenalee and their two friends Lavi Bookman and Kanda Yu were studying for upcoming exams in the next room. When the four college students went in to see what the commotion was, they saw three unconscious strangers lying in front of the time machine.

Even after Komui’s rapid explanation, they were understandably unconvinced that the strangers actually were from another time. But once the strangers had woken up, realized that they weren’t in danger and allowed the scientists to inspect the goods they carried, there was no arguing that they hadn’t come from the past.

Now came the next problem: what to do with them? The first obvious answer – send them back – was unfortunately out of the question due to the time machine overheating and needing replacement parts. So the trio would have to stay in the present until the machine was fixed. But where to put them? They couldn’t keep them at the university 24/7 without telling the dean, Malcolm C. Lvellie, about the entire event. And no one was naive enough to let that ruthless man have access to either the time travelers or the machine, even if he did believe them.

_Especially_ if he believed them.

The next best option would be to have someone take them in. But who? All of the scientists either lived in the dorms, tiny flats, or had too-nosy family members/neighbors. Lavi’s grandfather could keep a secret, but again their lodgings weren’t large enough. Kanda flat out refused as he enjoyed his privacy. And since Lenalee lived with her brother, it would be a cold day in Hell before Komui would let male strangers stay with them.

Ellen, though… she had inherited a house from her grandmother: a nice, spacious Victorian residence surrounded by wheat fields. And located out in the countryside with nary a neighbor in sight.

It took some convincing, but she eventually agreed to let the time travelers stay with her. They decided to transport the group using Cache’s SUV as public transportation was just too risky. After some trial-and-error with getting the three into the vehicle, Cache safely deposited her four passengers at Ellen’s house without getting lost (she had GPS installed into her car, which eliminated the hazard of asking the white-haired student for directions).

Which brought her back to the situation happening right now. Ellen switched her light purple gaze from her house guests to her fingers idly drumming on her left knee. Normally she had no problem engaging other people in conversation, but that was going to be exceedingly difficult this time. They had tried talking with the three time travelers earlier at the university, but were only answered back in an unknown language. Even Lavi, who spoke more languages than Ellen herself, could only make vague guesses at what they were saying.

With oral communication ruled out for now, it appeared that she’ll have to fall back on gestures to see her through the first few days. She did have some experience to draw on, thankfully. Traveling with Cross meant that the duration of their stays in other countries ranged from less than a day to months on end. While Ellen tried to learn enough of the local language of their current country to complete daily errands, there where many situations that left her with no other choice but to mime out what she needed.

_‘But where do I begin for this? How can I get them to trust me, at least for now?’_ She hadn’t missed how each of them, even the girl, were tense underneath their facade of calm. As if waiting for Ellen to attack them. It made her wonder what their daily lives were like back then.

Who had been right: Hobbes or Rousseau?

Then a loud gurgle broke through the woman’s thoughts. Blinking in confusion, she lifted her gaze over to her guests. The young girl and man looked perplexed as well, while the teen-aged boy seemed to be sinking into the settee rather purposefully.

Ah. Well, now she knew whose stomach was growling.

The other two quickly caught on as well. The older male looked at the younger one with mirth filled eyes and a smirk. The girl was even more amused. She let out peals of laughter before running over to the teenager and pinching his cheeks. He halfheartedly tried to get her to stop, but she just laughed again and crooned out some unknown, but affectionate-heavy words.

Ellen smothered a smile behind her hand as she watched them unnoticed. The earlier unease had melted away, and now her guests were settling down. That was good. It would make their stay at her house easier for them all. _‘Speaking of which,’_ she mused as she stood up and walked to the kitchen, _‘I better fix some food for them. Can’t have them starving now, can I?’_

Ellen rummaged through the cabinets and refrigerator to confirm what she had on hand. Leftovers were a rarity in this household, so naturally there wasn’t anything of that type around. Junk food was convenient, but she didn’t want to risk them having an adverse reaction. Luckily the young woman had just went food shopping yesterday, so there was enough ingredients on hand for a light lunch. What should she make, though? Her guests were from a time before utensils, so that limited what she could serve...

After a few more seconds of thinking, Ellen finally decided on fried fish sandwiches. She grabbed some vegetables and fish fillets and placed them on the kitchen counter top before going to the drawers and cabinets for the other ingredients and cooking equipment she needed.

After washing up, cleaning the vegetables and putting them aside, she poured some olive oil into the frying pan and walked over to the gas cooker. But just as she placed the pan down, Ellen felt a gaze on her back. She looked back and saw the young girl looking back at her from the kitchen doorway. _‘Someone’s curious,’_ the young woman thought with amusement. It was hardly surprising though. Ancient and modern kitchens had as much in common as lions and crocodiles, in her own opinion.

Ellen gave the girl a smile and made a gesture with her arm to beckon her over.The girl blinked once before confidently walking right over to the older female. “Hello, there. I thought you all would like something to eat,” she said as the girl let her inquisitive gaze roam around the kitchen. She waited for the girl to look over at the gas cooker before turning a dial on low. The girl tilted her head as she heard the clicking of the cooker trying to ignite the gas. And then a small blue flame flickered into existence and started to warm the frying pan.

“There. Now to prep the vegetables and fillets,” Ellen nodded to herself as she moved back to the counter top. She quickly dried and sliced the tomato, lettuce and some onions before arranging them on four sets of bread slices; she then seasoned the fish fillets with salt and black pepper in a separate bowl. The gas cooker was carefully monitored all throughout: not only to see whether the oil was ready for frying, but also to make sure the girl didn’t get too close to the flame.

Thankfully the girl, while mesmerized by the color of the flame, kept a good distance from it. While she would have been more familiar with campfires rather than gas cookers, at the end of the day both cooking systems had one thing in common: don’t get too close or you’ll get burned, you ninny.

_‘I guess I shouldn’t go around making assumptions too soon,’_ Ellen thought a little sheepishly as she saw little bubbles appearing on the oiled surface of the pan. She turned up the heat, coated the fillets in flour, and placed them into the pan once the oil really got going.

The girl let out a soft gasp, then moved in closer to observe what was happening inside the pan. Ellen kept her own gaze on the fillets, moving them around so they weren’t too close together, and flipped them onto their other side. Finally she removed the fillets, turned off the cooker and completed the sandwiches.

“Okay, that’s done,” Ellen sighed as she observed her work. She set the pan aside for proper oil disposal later, then started washing the other dirty pieces of cookware in the sink.

The girl, meanwhile, eyed the sandwiches with hunger, then reached out and scooped one up without the paper napkin underneath. She didn’t immediately try to eat it. Instead she inspected it, trying to mentally match up the sandwich’s ingredients with those she knew at home. Finally, seeing no obvious red flags, the girl brought the sandwich up to her lips and bit into it.

At first she just chewed her mouthful with no visible change to her expression. Then her eyes got wider as she fully experienced the taste of all the ingredients. A happy noise of contentment, the kind you always hear when someone eats good food, was expressed and a smile curved on her lips.

_‘Well, that’s one down,’_ Ellen wryly thought as she observed the girl as she put the last clean utensil on the rack to dry. _‘Now I just have to give the other two theirs.’_

She had just grabbed a paper towel to dry her hand with when she heard a voice behind her. The young woman silently shuddered as she felt a small chill run up her spine due to that voice. The same chill she felt earlier at the university. Which meant…

Ellen turned around and saw that the teenager and the man were now both in the kitchen with her and the girl. Well, technically only the teenager was inside. He had chosen to walk over to the kitchen table and sit himself down. The man, on the other hand, was leaning against the doorway. This time he was giving her his undivided attention, letting his eyes roam her person.

First he kept them on her face, which undoubtedly looked peculiar to him. Not only was she very pale, her hair was white and she had a bright red facial scar that looked more like a tattoo. Then they migrated south, taking in her lithe figure clothed by a long sleeved shirt and a pair of trousers. After receiving their fill, those golden eyes moved back up to capture her purple eyes before his face broke into an alluring smirk.

Ellen kept her expression neutral the entire time, though she inwardly felt quite flustered. Hardly surprising; after all, any woman would be at least a little flattered by a positive gaze (sexual orientation of both the gazer and the eye candy could complicate matters, but she had a feeling that that wouldn’t apply to this situation). Plus he was quite attractive by modern standards. Over six feet tall, long dark hair, a great figure; even his teeth were in good condition, considering he was from a time before modern dental practices. She couldn’t deny that she had, well, ‘ogled’ the man when she first laid eyes on him earlier today. And the other women present – yes, even Lenalee herself – also took the time to appreciate his looks.

Still, this was neither the time nor the place to let her hormones get the better of her.

The girl flounced over to her family and began happily chattering, causing the man and the teenager to fully focus on her. Ellen wasn’t certain about what the girl was saying, but judging by the looks she was getting from the other two, the topic was the sandwiches and who made them.

The young woman placed what she hoped was a friendly smile to them onto her face as she grabbed the rest of the sandwiches and walked over. She first offered one to the teenager, seeing as it was his stomach that first made its need of sustenance clearly known. He took it from her after the girl prodded him for a bit, but soon began to enjoy its taste as well.

Ellen turned away from the two adolescents and saw the man was now standing close by. So she walked over and offered him a sandwich, which he readily took and bit into. And he appeared to enjoy it, too.

_‘Well, that’s one issue resolved,’_ she sighed to herself before tucking into her sandwich as well. Then she noticed that the girl had finished hers and was now curiously looking at the paper napkin wrapped around the teenager’s lunch. She pointed at the napkin before asking him something in their native language. He stopped chewing, unwrapped the napkin and handed it over before continuing on eating.

The girl gazed down at the napkin in her hands, golden eyes taking in the sight of dark fingers against stark whiteness. Then she noticed something interesting; the sandwich crumbs and juices once stuck to her hands were now on the strange fabric. She ran over to the refrigerator and stopped right in front of it. Looking into the door’s reflective surface, she took the napkin and rubbed it over her mouth. She then examined the napkin once finished, and sure enough there were now additional food stains on it.

Ellen watched in amusement as the girl ran back to her family members to tell them what she learned. It was a good thing they were showing to be adaptable. They’ll need that in order to stay in this time for however long it takes to repair the time machine.

_‘What should I show them next? The tap, perhaps; it’s right behind me, and they’ll need to wash their hands once they’ve finished eating. Though,’_ Ellen mused, _‘I can’t help but wonder how they’ll react to liquid soap. Best case scenario, one of them will fill the sink with bubbles.’_

Ellen let out a small chuckle as she imagined the young girl gleefully throwing handfuls of bubbles at the others to annoy them. She seemed to be the type to enjoy such mischief.

_‘Really, Ellen,’_ she lightly chided herself as the others looked at her with bemusement, _‘this is not the time for jokes. It’s important for them to learn the proper way to maintain hygiene in the 21 st century. Yes, the language barrier will make it difficult, but that is no excuse. And the first few times I’ll probably have to show-’_

Wait.

She would eventually have to show them how to use the bathroom.

Which included the loo.

And the shower.

And ‘showing’ meant actually demonstrating.

In front of all of them.

Which meant-

_‘Lavi, you better be both available and willing right now. Because if I end up on my own for this, I swear to God I will **throttle** you at university tomorrow.’_

**\- xXx -**

**Cultural Notes:**

**Well, not as much ‘cultural notes’ as ‘research trivia’ since I haven’t completely decided what culture to base the Noah clan on. I do have two broad categories though. But I do have some British slang to explain.**

**Settee – Sofa.**

**Biscuits – Refers to what we in the US call cookies.**

**Pissed – Means ‘drunk’ in the UK.**

**Gas cooker – Gas stove.**

**Tap – Sink.**

**Loo – Toilet.**

**Now onto the culture!**

**Archaic period in North America (8500-1000 BCE) – This period started off with the land bridge connecting North America to Eurasia permanently closing off. Over time developments like basketry, crop cultivation, copper tool production and trade networks appear as certain cultural traditions replace hunting-gathering with sedentary farming. Of course, if and when that happened relied on several factors like environment and relations with other groups. Some of the cultures that pop up during this period include the Cochise tradition of the Archaic Southwest and the Old Copper Complex of the Great Lakes.**

**Mehrgarh Periods (7000-c. 2500 BCE) – The precursor to the Indus Valley Civilization. Exemplified by the city of Mehrgarh, a Neolithic site located in modern day Pakistan. Mehrgarh shows the earliest signs of farming and animal husbandry in South Asia, and was influenced by the Near Eastern Neolithic. Artifacts from this city include terracotta female figures, pit kilns and seals (not the animal). It was eventually abandoned for the larger, fortified town of Nausharo.**

**Can’t say which one is better. On one hand, the Mehrgarh periods II and III are more technologically advanced than most of their Archaic contemporaries. The Noah clan had the White Ark for several millennia, after all. But none of the artifacts recovered from the city show evidence that the people fought others. And if there is one thing the Noah aren’t, it’s pacifists. Plus, Archaic North America is pretty interesting in its own right.**

**Eh, I’ll decide later. There are several more plot bunnies rattling around in my noggin that are begging to be released. It wouldn’t be kind to ignore the poor dears, now would it?**

**Hobbes vs Rousseau: This refers to the contrasting theories provided by Thomas Hobbes and Jean-Jacques Rousseau on the state of nature. Basically, were people born good or evil before society came along? Hobbes’ argument boils down to the fact that there weren’t any laws (as we understand them) to restrain people back then, and that life was basically “nasty, brutish, and short.” Rousseau, meanwhile, theorized that people are born as blank slates; it’s society itself that turns them bad.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if you didn’t like how Tyki, Road and Wisely didn’t talk a lot in this one-shot. I didn’t want to make this chapter too long, given my tendency to over explain story elements. Plus there’s a language barrier between them and Ellen. If I ever do turn this into a full story, though, those three are going to be talking a lot.
> 
> Please leave a comment for me if you have something to say~!


	3. Cafe Conversation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beverages are drunk, a vlog is watched, and a relationship is dissected. Basically, just another day at a cafe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This actually came from an early plot bunny that is still tap dancing in my brain, so future one-shots might be connected to this one. I’ll let you guys know if that’s the case. I have to warn you, though; there is one part of this story that gets a bit steamy! It’s not a detailed description, as it was originally posted on FF.net, though...
> 
> Oh, and you may cry. A lot. Seriously, have some tissues ready.
> 
> This was inspired by PokerPair week 2k19’s Day prompt – Coffee shop AU! Now join me down the rabbit hole – and bring a flashlight; it’s too easy getting lost down there.
> 
> Warnings: PokerPair; Fem!Allen; Modern AU; Smut; Swearing in several languages; Some angst; Mentions of past cyber bullying and implied child neglect (I’m basing her childhood on Allen’s, after all); Probable OOC-ness; Un-beta’d; And Road being Road
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own D. Gray Man in any shape or form; same goes for any other IP you see in here… ;__;

_**Cafe Conversation (AKA: Why does Road have a YouTube channel, again?)** _

Ah, coffee. Such a peculiar drink brewed from dried beans picked off a tree. Bitter in its purest form, and yet beloved the world over for how it kick-starts the human body via the caffeine hidden within. There were other drinks that had a similar effect, of course. Soda contributed to sugar rushes (plus diabetes); and tea, just as popular as coffee, also contained caffeine. Not to mention energy drinks. Still, if Tyki Mikk had to pick which beverage to give himself a much-needed boost…

“Tyki?” a young barista called out, breaking his customer’s train of thought.

He walked up to the pick-up counter and said, “That’s me.”

The barista handed him his order (one tall espresso) and cheerfully wished him a good day. Drink in hand, Tyki walked back to his corner table by the window. Resting on top was a slightly out of date laptop with a Microsoft Word document already opened.

He sat down and scanned the document, trying to return yo where he had left off in his story. At the age of twenty-six, Tyki was considered one of New York City’s up and coming authors. He had already published several well-received short stories, and now he was working on a manuscript for a novel his editor now nagged him to complete. Well honestly, Cell Roron didn’t nag; the man was actually quite the timid sort. But still he could wail like a heart-broken banshee whenever Tyki got too close to breaking a deadline. It had been vaguely amusing the first time, but now was just annoying.

The Portuguese man sipped his drink as he stared at the screen. Writing a novel was certainly a much different experience compared to those regarding his previous works. Short stories were aptly named; you had to bring about the classic story structure in a shorter amount of page space, necessitating tighter story telling without leaving it too thread bare. A novel’s length, by contrast, was much more negotiable; an author could take their time in crafting the narrative, characters, etc. But such freedom ran the temptation of overindulgence. He could list a number of books he had read over the years that would have been greatly improved if someone had decided to cut out unnecessary scenes or reduce a minor character’s over-extended coverage.

“Well, this is surprising.”

Blinking at the familiar but unexpected voice, Tyki turned his head and saw his distant cousin, Diego ‘Mercym’ Prieto Espina, standing in front of him.

“Mercym? What are you doing here?”

The Spaniard moved his left hand to draw attention to the large shoulder bag he was carrying. “I need to work on next week’s lesson plans, and a colleague recommended this cafe’s tea.”

_'That’s right,’_ Tyki idly remembered, _'he’s a teacher._ Despite his large muscular physique and quiet demeanor, the older man was both fond of and great with young children. He was currently employed at a public elementary school, saying that his skills would be needed more there than at a private one.

“You need lesson plans for five-year old kids?” Tyki asked, very curious at such a concept. To him, Kindergarten didn’t seem to need structure beyond nap times, snack times and story times.

Mercym nodded. “They may be young, but they still need to learn how to read and write. And I’m planning on introducing them on topics like environmentalism with future projects.”

“Huh. Won’t they find that boring?”

Mercym lightly smiled, “Not if I give them something fun to do.”

Tyki gave a smirk in return. “Ah, sneaking education into leisure. I wish you good luck.”

“Thanks, Tyki. Do you mind if I join you?” the teacher asked as he indicated to the other chair at the table.

“Not at all,” the author shrugged before going back to his manuscript. The next few minutes went by in comfortable silence. That’s one quality he appreciated about Mercym; the other man didn’t try to force small talk. If only some other family members could follow that approach to life…

Shortly after, Mercym’s order was called and he left to retrieve it. Tyki made more progress, but that was only with cutting down on the word length. When the teacher came back with his tea, Tyki let out a frustrated groan as he put his right hand in front of his face.

“Writer’s block?” Mercym accurately guessed.

“Yeah,” Tyki sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “I managed to cut out some unnecessary stuff, but that’s all.”

Mercym took out his tablet and began to go through his apps. “You’re working on a novel this time, right? What’s it about?”

Tyki nodded at the first question. “Thriller horror with urban fantasy elements. Basically half of the story revolves around an intangible serial killer.”

“So is he the protagonist or antagonist?”

“Hmm… Hard to say, really. Joyd certainly goes against society with his actions. But with my writing style, I don’t want to reduce him to being so easily labeled.”

“There are such things as villain protagonists, you know.”

“Eh,” Tyki shrugged at the other’s observation. “Still, I don’t want him to be wholly bad. Just as I don’t want the other primary character, his foil, to be wholly good.”

“So they’re the other person the book will focus on?” Mercym asked as he sipped his tea.

“Yeah, and it’s a bigger pain to write her than the killer. I need her to be strong enough to go against him without coming across as too Mary Sue-ish, but also flawed enough without being a whiny load.”

The other man hummed in thought as he worked across from Tyki. “That does sound like quite the challenge. Will you be able to make your deadline?”

“Don’t worry about me; I’ll make do. Besides I still have three months before I need to actually worry.”

Mercym paused and looked up from his tablet. While his large sunglasses obscured his gaze (much like Tyki’s downtime glasses), it was clear that he was looking at the other with surprise. “When did you start that manuscript?”

“About five months ago.”

“Was that right after you signed the contract with your publisher?”

“Yeah.”

“How long is it supposed to be?”

“My editor and I have a target of about 30,000 words. Which means that, technically, I’m writing a novella instead of a novel. But novel sounds better.”

“How far along are you?”

Tyki now grew confused by Mercym’s questioning. He looked toward the bottom of his laptop’s screen to find the word count. “Uh, about 25,000 words. Mercym, just what are you getting at?”

The older man folded his hands over the table in such a way that it eerily reminded Tyki of how his guidance counselor would look as he talked to the then student about his future goals. Must be an educator thing. “You seem to be making good progress with this manuscript, Tyki.”

“Uh, yeah. Present writer’s block non-withstanding, I have.”

“And you started the manuscript as soon as you signed that contract.”

“I guess...”

“That was surprisingly proactive of you.”

Tyki was confused by that statement. He frowned and asked, “Just what do you mean by that, Mercym?”

The other man shrugged his shoulders. “You’ve never really been one to start something straight away. And don’t try to deny it; I remember overhearing conversations between your father and my parents when we both were still in school. Especially about your report cards. Those practically painted a portrait of you being the human embodiment of procrastination.”

Tyki let out an annoyed huff. “That was back in school. Of course I would put off boring assignments. But how does that matter here?”

“Your procrastination habit, to be blunt, carried over to adulthood. Or do you deny the several times when Sheril, Road, or the Earl came across you rushing to complete a short story days before a deadline?”

Tyki now looked out of the window, but his silence clearly answered Mercym’s question.

“And yet here you are, with a mostly finished manuscript and three months to spare. So what exactly motivated you?”

Silence continued to fill the space between them. Finally Tyki sighed and looked back at his cousin. “I have other plans, okay? And if I don’t get this done now everything will go off the rails.”

“You made plans with your friends, then?” Mercym asked, thinking of the small group of migrant laborers Tyki had been close with for years.

“No, with-”

Two different sets of musical chimes then went off, interrupting Tyki’s answer. Both men realized that they were coming from their own phones and not anyone else’s.

“Oh what now?” the author muttered as he checked his phone.

“It looks like Road uploaded her latest video on YouTube,” Mercym replied.

“I still don’t understand why she decided to start a weekly vlog. She already pushes her homework on others,” Tyki groused as he remembered being forced to complete his niece’s homework years ago. Though he wasn’t the only one roped in; Jasdero, Devit, Skin and even the Earl had to help her out.

“Well, it does keep her occupied,” the other pointed out. “You know how Road gets when she’s bored.”

Tyki felt a shiver race up his spine. A happy Road was already a handful. A bored Road? Oh, the chaos she could unleash…

“Besides, it’s not like she’s the one who has to edit the videos. Wisely is.”

Tyki didn’t even try to hold back his chuckle. Wisely, his nephew and Road’s older brother, was probably the smartest member of their extended family. He was also very laid back to the point of outright laziness. Those traits practically ensured that she would make him her primary video editor and, when the Earl’s assistant Lero was busy, secondary camera man.

Tyki noticed Mercym was now searching his shoulder bag for something. “What are you doing?”

The other man pulled out a pair of white earphones and plugged them into his phone. “I’m done with all but Friday’s lesson plan, so I might as well watch some of the video.”

“Ah, how enviable,” Tyki muttered as he frowned at his laptop. “I wish I could say the same...”

“You can take a break too, you know.”

“Are you asking me to procrastinate, Mercym? How surprising!”

“Stop acting cheeky, Tyki. I may not be a writer, but even I know that trying to force yourself to write only leads to frustration. Besides, you’ll need to watch some of the video before Road texts to ask you what you think of it.”

“True,” Tyki agreed and retrieved his own pair of wireless headphones. After putting them on and opening up Google Chrome, he went immediately to YouTube and clicked the Subscription tab. Road’s video, titled _WEEKLY VLOG: Oh the Places we’ve Gone,_ was perched right at the top of the page. He clicked it and was greeted by Road’s cheery voice once the page loaded.

_“Hi, everyone! Road here!”_

As Road went on with her introduction, Tyki clicked on the video description. Because she ran a weekly vlog instead of a daily one, the video’s run-time was an hour long. Thankfully, Wisely went and put timestamps for particularly memorable moments in the description. He idly scanned them until one stood out – 25:48 (Visiting Ellen).

He vaguely remembered Ellen mentioning Road and Wisely popping in out of nowhere a few days ago. But when he asked her how it went, she had simply said that they had been _'very enthusiastic'_. He would have asked her to clarify that term (especially as it was used in relation to his dear niece and nephew) if not for their make-out session growing more… heated.

_‘Well,’_ Tyki thought as he clicked on the timestamp, _‘now’s the time to find out.’_

\- x -

_The video jumped ahead to show Road and, surprisingly enough, Wisely sitting on the latter’s bed. She was looking chipper as always, while he looked ready to lay back and nap._

_“And now we’ve come to my favorite moment of the week!” Road excitedly yelled out while she bounced on the bed._

_Wisely groaned as he was being jostled around by his little sister. “Calm down, Road! You’re gonna give me a headache.”_

_“Aw, don’t be such a baby,” she teased. “It was just a little bouncing!”_

_“It’s never ‘just a little’ with you, Road. And you’re getting off topic here.”_

_“Hmph!” she huffed before turning back to face the camera. “But he’s right; back to my favorite moment. You see, our school had a half day because of… some reason or another.”_

_A blue text box briefly popped up on screen with the following information:_

**_[It was a professional day for the teachers – Wisely]_ **

_“But that’s not important to this video. What matters is how we spent those extra hours! We could have visited Daddy at work, but that would have been...”_

_The video briefly presented Sheril Kamelot, a ruthless politician and Tyki’s older brother, excessively fawning over Road before cutting back to the two siblings._

_“… predictable!” Ignoring Wisely’s eye roll at that massive understatement, she pressed on. “There weren’t any new candy stores that have opened up in the last week, the ones I’ve already visited haven’t added anything new-”_

**_[Like that has ever stopped you from ordering sweets – Wisely]_ **

**_[You know that Mom went and set stupid limits on my daily sugar intake; now, shush! These boxes can’t take up anymore screen space! – Road]_**

_“- and I refuse to resort to dumpster diving for views!” That last point was punctuated with a glare in Wisely’s direction._

_The teenage boy just shrugged in response. “I still think it could’ve been done. Kinda like a blind bag reveal, only more Eco-friendly."_

_“Whatever,” Road huffed. “Point is, we were at a loss on what to do. But as we waited for someone to pick us up, I noticed something interesting.” As she finished that last sentence, the camera transitioned from her and Wisely indoors to a random storefront outside. The viewer could see that it was now focused on a colorful flier taped to the inside of the store window._

_**“That’s when I got an idea~!”** she half sang out in her voice-over. _

_**[An awful idea – Wisely]** _

_Across the top half of the flier, ‘Black Order International Dance Troupe’ was written in bold, fancy cursive script._

_**[Road got a wonderful, awful idea – Wisely]** _

_“Here we are, folks!” Road cheerfully shouted out as the video abruptly cut to a close up of her grinning face. “May I present to you…” The camera was now turned away to face a concrete structure that perfectly mimicked a medieval stone tower, “the Black Order International Dance Troupe!”_

_**[FYI: the Black Order International Dance Troupe is a dance troupe that not only performs several forms of dance styles, they employ dancers and other personnel from all over the globe too. They’re most famous for their elaborate shows on the behalf of charities – Wisely]** _

_Wisely could be heard sighing out loud, the audio quality indicating that he was physically present at the scene. “Just as gaudy looking as ever.”_

_Road gave a nonchalant shrug. “Better to be unique than to drown in a sea of conformity. Now onward, my minion!”_

_“Don’t call me that.”_

_**“We’ve visited the dance troupe before,”** Road commented while she and Wisely were shown entering the building and talking to the receptionist, **"So we knew where we needed to go.”** Now a scene of Road skipping down a hallway, ignoring the curious and questioning looks they got as they went on their merry way, played out on screen._

_“You’re sure that she’s on this floor, Road?” Wisely asked his sister as they approached their final destination._

_“Yup!” Road cheerfully shouted. “The receptionist said Ellen wasn’t scheduled for any performances this week, so she’s just using one of the dance rooms for a light workout.”_

_“Ugh," he groaned in response. Anyone who was a long-time subscriber knew how much he loathed the concept of exercise. “That doesn’t mean she’ll be able to see us, though.”_

_“Oh, stop being a party pooper! What could possibly stand in our way?”_

_Cue the Gilligan Cut._

_“What do you mean we can’t see Ellen?!”_

_The stern-faced blond man now on screen replied as he glanced at the tablet in hand, “exactly what I said, Miss Kamelot. Ms. Walker is too busy at the moment to receive guests.”_

_**[That’s Howard Link. He’s a grim, uptight, dour, joyless wet blanket who insists on spoiling the fun for everybody! – Road]** _

_**[She means that he’s one of the Black Order’s administrators – Wisely]** _

**_[Same thing! – Road]_ **

_“But the receptionist said she’s only working out right now! And it’s not like she has a show coming up this week!” the young girl pointed out through gritted teeth._

_“That is true, which is all the more important that she finish it in peace. As for shows, just because there isn’t one scheduled doesn’t mean it will stay that way. Should the Black Order book a new show, all relevant personnel will have to pour more time into it. For dancers like Ms. Walker, that means they put in extra practice and go over routines created by our choreographers. Which would be severely hampered by distractions like unplanned visitors.”_

_“Oh, are we really that distracting?” Wisely dryly asked._

_Link narrowed his eyes at them. “There have been several incidents to support that. The most recent one being the last time you two visited unannounced.”_

_Road huffed in impatience, “We didn’t do anything wrong! That Kanda guy is always advertised as having ‘ninja-fast reflexes, especially during sword dances’. Can you blame me for wanting to see it in real life?”_

_“Based on the type of projectiles you were using at the time, I can and will. As for you,” Link now turned his attention to Wisely behind the camera, “you didn’t even try to stop her. Instead you sat back and provoked Kanda with rather tasteless comments.”_

_The camera bobbed up and down, indicating that Wisely had shrugged his shoulders in response. “It’s not my fault he’s too easy to get to.”_

_The adult now sighed as he massaged his temple with his free hand. “While Ms. Walker and Kanda have a… complicated dynamic, she would have at least tried to stop you two, if only for your own safety. That is, if she hadn’t been whisked away earlier by someone.”_

_“Tyki just wanted some alone time with Ellen,” Road angrily defended her favorite uncle. “They were barely able to see each other for nearly two weeks since the Black Order decided it would be a good idea to schedule several back-to-back demonstrations and performances before then.”_

_Link frowned at the not-so subtle dig. “How this dance troupe is run has nothing to do with you. The fact remains that Ms. Walker needs to practice right now and you two will only serve to distract her. Wait until after she’s finished if you want to see her that badly.”_

_The camera then cut back to Road, and judging by the dark look on her face she was very unhappy._

_**“Thankfully, before Road got us kicked out of the building,”** Wisely’s voice-over interrupted the tense scene, **“we were spotted by-”** _

_“Road? Wisely?”_

_All three of them turned and looked in the direction of where the voice came from. It came from a woman at the other end of the hallway. Because Wisely hadn’t yet zoomed in, it was hard for the viewer to see her exact features. What they could see was the woman was slim, had light skin and hair, and was wearing a T-shirt tied up to reveal her midriff and form-fitting dance pants._

_But her looks weren’t important right now. Her identity was._

_“Ellen!” Road shouted with glee as she ran full-stop towards the older woman. Wisely also moved towards her, albeit at a more relaxed pace than Road’s._

_By the time Wisely made it over to Ellen, Road had launched herself into the other’s arms. Ellen would’ve been bowled over by the force of the tackle had she not braced herself. Now the viewer got a better look at her pleasing facial features and striking silver eyes._

_“Hello there, Road,” Ellen smiled as she patted the girl’s shoulder with one hand while keeping her secured with the other._

_Road giggled in response, still dangling as she kept her arms wrapped around Ellen’s neck. “Hi, Ellen. We missed you so much~!”_

_“_ _You guys saw me a few days ago.”_

_“Which was a few days too long!”_

_Ellen shook her head in amusement at Road’s quip and turned her head towards the camera’s, and therefore Wisely’s, direction. “And it’s good to see you too, Wisely. But aren’t you two supposed to be in school right now?”_

_“It’s a half-day today, so we thought we’d visit you for Road’s vlog. And don’t worry; we already called Mom and told her our plans, so Dad will know too.”_

_“Well, that’s a relief,” Ellen sighed as she put Road down. “For a moment I was worried about getting a frantic call from Sheril telling me you two were kidnapped.”_

**_[Such a call would be mainly about Road, BTW – Wisely]_ **

_Road giggled, then perked up as she realized something. “Oh, right. This is the first time you’ll be on the vlog,” she sang out as she positioned Ellen in front of the camera. “Is this good, Wisely?”_

_“It’s perfect.”_

_“Good! Ahem; Ladies and gentlemen,” Road said in a dramatic fashion as she began to gesture to the woman at her side, “may I present Ellen Walker: Black Order dancer specializing in aerial silks and acro dance; twenty-two years old, and Uncle Tyki’s girlfriend~♥! Sorry, all you singles!”_

_Ellen blushed and asked, “Was that really necessary, Road?”_

_“Of course the introduction was necessary! The viewers don’t know who you are yet.”_

_“I think she meant that last part, Road. About her relationship with Uncle Tyki?"_

_“Oh… Well, it’s even more necessary! Can’t have any one watching this trying to track her down on the mistaken belief that she’s single, now can we?” she firmly stated, causing both Ellen and Wisely to sigh at the same time._

_Link, who had been essentially ignored up to now, finally regained their attention with an annoyed clearing of his throat._

_“Oh, I’m sorry, Link,” Ellen apologized to the blond man. “We got a little bit carried away just now.”_

_The older man raised an eyebrow, but declined to comment on it. “Weren’t you still using Dance Room 2A, Ms. Walker?” he asked instead._

_“Ah, I was, but then I had to use the loo. I was just on my way back when I saw you three here. So, what were you all talking about?”_

_But before Link could start explaining, Road beat him to it. “He told us to go away!” the young girl shouted as she sent him an angry pout._

_“Wait, what?”_

_“He told us that seeing you would interfere with your work,” Wisely chimed in off camera._

_Ellen looked at her co-worker with confusion and disbelief written on her face. “Link, is this true?”_

_The adult man tried to rein in his irritation; not an easy feat since the camera revealed Road sticking out her tongue from beside Ellen. “I told them that it would be better for them to wait until you’re done instead of barging in without a care. Especially given the last time they visited without calling ahead.”_

_Ellen winced at that. “I understand that they can be… somewhat high spirited. But they do mean well, Link. Besides,” she hastily added as Link’s frown grew deeper and Road’s face smugger, “I’ve finished most of my workout routine. All that’s left is a final run down and then some cool-down exercises. Surely there’s no risk of harm if they stay for a half hour or so?”_

_Link was silent for a few moments, then sighed in defeat. “Keep them close until you’re finished, then. But next time they need to let someone know ahead of time that they’re coming. Is that clear?”_

_Ellen gave the older man a wide, radiant smile. “Very, Link. And thank you so much!”_

_Her thanks resulted in a light blush flickering across the blond’s face before he finally excused himself and went off in the opposite direction. Road blew a raspberry at his retreating back until he was out of her line of sight._

_**“And so we got rid of the pest-”** _

_**[Wrong use of the word ‘we’, there – Wisely]** _

_**“-and finally met up with Ellen!”** Road finished with triumph clearly intoned in her voice. **“Then she took us to the dance room!”** _

**_[And began TORTURING US! – Wisely]_ **

_Those comments opened up what could only be described as a training montage, complete with peppy workout music. It included Road producing workout clothes out of nowhere-_

**_[HOW DID YOU GET MY GYM UNIFORM?! – Wisely]_ **

_**[You’ll be surprised what fan-girls are capable of given the right incentives~! – Road]** _

_-_ _Ellen showing them some of her daily exercises-_

_**[I knew that she trained a lot, but 300 one armed handstand push-ups every day? Now that’s hard-core! – Road]** _

_**[I think the word you’re looking for is ‘insane’, actually – Wisely]** _

_-Wisely being forced into attempting to exercise which backfired, such as regular push-ups-_

**_[Really, Wisely? Not even one? – Road]_ **

_**[Well, your kick certainly killed anything that was left of my motivation – Wisely]** _

_-_ _Road attempting some acro dance moves for beginners with Ellen’s help-_

_**[Dad’s going to freak out once he sees this – Wisely]** _

_-and above all, just having a good time together. As the music faded away, the camera focused on a shot of Wisely flat on the floor. The teenager stared up at the ceiling with its fluorescent lights, greedily sucking in as much air as he could get into his out-of-shape lungs._

_Road giggled off camera as it zoomed into her brother’s face. “Did you enjoy yourself, Wisely?”_

_Wisely looked askance at her and started to raise his right arm._

_“Be careful, Wisely,” she brightly warned him. “Do remember that my videos aren’t categorized as ‘Adults only’~!”_

_Wisely paused, curled in all of his fingers save for the thumb, then pointed that digit straight down._

_All he got in return for that was more of Road’s giggling._

_Oh, and a water bottle. Wait, what?_

_“Here you are, Wisely,” Ellen said as she placed the bottle by his head. “I thought you two would like something to drink.”_

_The boy moaned in thanks as he forced himself up and grabbed the bottle. The camera then moved from him rapidly chugging down the water to Ellen’s look of bemusement as she watched him._

_“_ _I don’t suppose he’ll stop himself before he chokes?” she asked Road as she walked over to her and gave her a bottle of apple juice._

_“Eh, it’s 50/50 at this point,” Road shrugged._

_Ellen chuckled as she opened her own bottle of mango juice. The video cut forward to what was probably ten minutes later in real time, and Road asked her an interesting question._

_“Hey, Ellen?”_

_“Hm?” Ellen stopped sipping her drink and looked over at the younger girl. “What is it, Road?”_

_The camera switched from Ellen to the other side of the room, where two long poles connecting the ceiling to the floor stood guard in front of wall-to-wall mirrors._

_“Why do you guys have those poles installed here?”_

_Road switched back to the woman’s embarrassed face, though a curious Wisely could now be seen in the background._

_“Well… we use them for a certain dance,” the dancer sheepishly replied._

_“Oh? What kind of dance?” Road’s tone of voice clearly indicated that she already knew the answer, but she still asked the question for her own amusement._

**_[Sadist – Wisely]_ **

_**[Takes one to know one – Road]** _

_Ellen waffled a bit, then sighed as she ran her free hand down her face. “I know I’ll regret this later,” she muttered under her breath before looking back into Road’s face. “Well, the reason is rather quite simple: we used to have dancers who formally specialized in pole dancing.”_

_“So they’re no longer with the troupe?” Road asked, acting rather nonchalant compared to the average person who automatically linked ‘pole dancing’ with ‘stripper’._

_“That’s right,” Ellen nodded. “Two of them, to be exact: Gwen Flail and Tina Spark. They left a few months after I joined, so I can’t tell you much about them. Klaud Nyne does know how to pole dance, but she’s now a choreographer instead of a dancer.”_

_“So now they’re just gathering dust,” Road sighed out in disappointment. “It seems like such a waste to not use them.”_

_Ellen just looked to the side. “Yes, it is…”_

_“Hey, Ellen,” Wisely began talking to the older woman as he moved closer into view. “You said that none of the dancers ‘formally’ specialize in pole dancing, right?”_

_She blinked at that question. “Yes. Why do you ask?”_

_“Well, that doesn’t rule out dancers who ‘informally’ specialize in it. So,” Wisely questioned as Ellen stiffened up, “is there someone like that here?”_

_Road, who had quickly realized where her brother was going, turned around and focused the camera solely on Ellen. “Yeah, Ellen, is there~?” she asked the other in a sing-song voice._

_Seeing no way out, the British woman went ahead and confessed. “It’s me.”_

_Wisely choked on the sip of water he was drinking at the same time Ellen answered and began coughing ferociously. The video skipped ahead to when his cough dwindled down to just a tired sigh as Ellen gently patted his back._

_“Are you okay now, Wisely?” she asked._

_“Yeah, I just… just wasn’t expecting that it was you instead of one of your friends,” the teenager reassured her._

_“Don’t worry about Wisely,” Road chirped behind the camera, though her arm was seen reaching out and clasping his shoulder as well. “He’ll bounce back from hacking his lungs out by this time next week.”_

_“Gee, thanks a lot Road,” Wisely sarcastically replied as he rolled his eyes. He then turned back to Ellen and asked, “So how do you know how to pole dance, anyway?”_

_Ellen looked up to the ceiling as she contemplated her answer. “Well, to make a long story short, I was introduced to it by a… lady friend of Cross’ after I graduated 12 th grade here in America. And I’ve kept up practicing it since it helps me with my aerial silk moves.”_

_“Really? How?”_

_“Both pole dance and aerial silks require the performer to have enough upper body strength to climb the respective pole or silks. Each performance is done as they’re suspended above the ground with only what they’re climbing on to support them. And finally, they must be flexible enough so that the moves appear graceful and effortless to the audience.”_

_“Wow…” Road breathed out, her impressed tone the only indicator to the viewer on how she was currently feeling. Then she gleefully asked, “Can you show us some moves?”_

_“What?! Why?” Ellen blurted out._

_“Well, you only showed us some acro moves so far, despite being specialized in both acro dance and aerial silks,” the younger girl pointed out. “It’s not fair to the viewers that they can’t see examples of both.”_

_“It’s not like I knew you two were coming,” the dancer reasoned, “or I would have asked Johnny or another technician to set up the silks today.”_

_“Ah, but you don’t have to set up the poles,” Road countered as the camera switched back and forth between Ellen and the equipment in question. “And you said yourself that the two styles are quite similar~.”_

_“You can’t deny that, Ellen,” Wisely interjected with a smirk._

_She shot him an irritated look. “And you are being the polar opposite of useful in this situation.”_

_He just gave her a shrug in return._

_“Aw, c’mon Ellen,” Road cajoled her uncle’s girlfriend, “just show us.”_

_“No, Road. Not today.”_

_“Please?”_

_“I said ‘no’.”_

_“PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE-”_

_“NO NO NO NO-”_

_**“This went on for a while,”** Wisely’s voice-over stated the obvious as the video transitioned to a sped-up montage of Road pleading and Ellen refusing. **“But she eventually caved in.”** The following scene showing a resigned Ellen being hugged by a pleased-that-she-got-her-way-yet-again Road confirmed that statement._

_As the video now showed Ellen stretching in front of the dance poles, it was Road’s turn for a voice-over._

_**“Alright, everyone, here’s a nice bit of trivia: whenever Ellen pole dances, she uses a special playlist on her phone that she made herself!”** _

_**“She does have good taste in music,”** Wisely confirmed.  
_

_**“Yup! Unfortunately, due to Youtube’s stupid enforcement of copyright, we can’t play the original audio. Worse, we can’t use the entire routine either!”** _

_**“We need to keep the video’s total length to about an hour, Road. So instead, here’s the abridged version with royalty free music. There are links to which songs she used in the description. And no, I’m not going to upload the entire routine later on. It would be too much work.”** _

_**“Hmph, lazy bum! Oh look, it’s about to start!”** _

_And so began Ellen’s pole dance routine. It started off low-key, with Ellen simply approaching one of the poles with a languid pace. She then gripped the pole with her left hand, looked over at the camera with a sultry gaze, then started to perform a few ground moves. She twisted and twirled, finely walking the line between sensual and trashy. Soon she climbed up the pole to perform the suspended moves: sits, high kicks, hooks, inversions… each move was not only technically graceful, they carried a certain energy that signaled that Ellen truly enjoyed what she was doing._

_Wisely’s editing skills were on full display as well. Despite the moves not flowing into each other as they would during a live performance, he had carefully arranged the clips so that they matched the music, note for note. He also apparently had fun mixing moves using the stationary pole with those that required the rotating pole._

_Alas, all good things must come to an end. That didn’t mean said ending should be on a sad note, however. The last move Ellen performed was a very complex one: she practically hugged the pole with the left side of her body as her legs were in a full split, rendering her parallel to the floor. It really was something that invoked a feeling of shock and awe._

_“_ _That was incredible, Ellen!” Road praised as the camera now showed her giving the other a great, big bear hug._

_“Thank you, Road, though it wasn’t that amazing,” Ellen smiled as she returned it with a more sedate measure._

_“Are you sure you don’t want to formally add pole dancing to your list? You’re so good at it~!”_

_Ellen sighed in response. “Yes, I’m sure. I like to keep it as just a secret way of working out. Well, as secret as I can keep it after this video,” she dryly amended as she looked at the camera._

_**[Yeah, not gonna happen – Wisely]** _

_Road giggled, then turned to fully face the camera. “Alright, everyone! This has been our visit to the Black Order. Thanks again for performing for this video, Ellen!”_

_“You’re welcome, Road. And I hope your viewers all have a good day.”_

_The last scene at the Black Order was of Ellen waving to the viewer._

_“Ah, that really was a great day,” Road happily sighed out loud as the video now showed her and Wisely back in her room._

_“Hmph,” he grunted as he turned his back towards the camera._

_“Huh? What’s wrong, Wisely?”_

_“Hmph.”_

_“Are you still mad that we made you exercise~?”_

_She then burst into laughter once she saw his answering blush painted on his ears._

_“Aw, c’mon Wisely,” she teased her brother. “It wasn’t that bad. She was going easy on you-”_

_“Easy?!” Wisely scoffed at Road’s word choice._

_“-and besides,” she continued as if he hadn’t interrupted her, “we even got her to show us her moves. The viewers will love that~!”_

_“Maybe too much…”_

_“Hm? What do you mean?”_

_Wisely sent a mysterious gaze to the side. “Let’s just say that Uncle Tyki shouldn’t look at the comments section...”_

\- x -

Tyki let out a soft chuckle as he paused the video. _‘Well, now I know what happened that day,’_ he mused as he let what he just watched sink in. Though now he wondered why Ellen didn’t try to fully explain what happened the first time he asked. Maybe she just didn’t want to relive how stressful their visit was? He wouldn’t have blamed her; Road and Wisely seemed to have put her through a lot with their visit. And given what they were doing at the time…

Or maybe she was just reluctant to admit that she could pole dance. But why? Tyki had already seen her using those aerial silks, which was sexy in its own right. Plus he knew that behind Ellen’s wholesome persona she presented to the world, there laid a more seductive and mischievous side that could bring any man she wanted to her feet. Only the manners instilled into the dancer by her late father kept her from unleashing it on the world.

Though she could, and regularly did, unleash it on Tyki. Who didn’t mind in the slightest. There was just something so arousing about dating a woman who could successfully pull off both the ingenue and vamp. How she would secretly tease him with dirty whispers and heated looks, then innocently tell him to be patient because they were in public. How those deceptively thin arms could easily rip open his shirt and her hands raise goosebumps to match the groans his mouth spilled out from her nipping at his throat. And _oh_ , how despite him fully pinning her to the mattress (really, any flat surface) and controlling the pace of their love-making, she could still get him to do what she wanted with just a moan or a squeeze or a kiss or by purring out, _“Oh please, love, just a little bit harder. Harder. Hard- Yes, that’s it! Oh, yes yes YES YES **YES** -”_

_‘Fuck,’_ the Portuguese man mentally groaned as he clenched his eyes shut, trying not to let the results of his earlier fantasizing show. _‘I better quit while I’m ahead.’_

Well, at least Mercym was still busy watching Road’s vlog. That way some of Tyki’s dignity remained intact.

It was probably a good idea to have another go at his manuscript. Sure, there was no guarantee that his mind wouldn’t _stray_ , but at least he would look busy for a while.

However, just as he was about to switch back to Word, one phrase from the video suddenly echoed through his mind.

_“Let’s just say that Uncle Tyki shouldn’t look at the comments section...”_

What exactly did Wisely mean by that? Now very curious, he instead started to scroll down the page.

Despite having just been uploaded half an hour ago, the video already had many comments posted. Most were from Road’s subscribers who gushed about either one point in the vlog or another. There were even a few about how Ellen looked so cool on the pole (He couldn’t help but feel proud on her behalf). And of course there were those meme comments that obeyed neither rhyme nor reason regarding why they were posted thereat all. Really, Tyki couldn’t see why Wisely had made that enigmatic remark in the first place.

But then he did.

“ _¿Qué cojones (What the hell)?"_ Mercym cursed out loud as a sudden wave of fury washed over him. He looked away from his lesson plan to find out where that negative energy was emanating from. Much to his shock, the source turned out to be his normally laid-back cousin.

“Tyki, what’s got you so upset?”

“Comments.”

“What?”

“Comment’s section. Ellen. Road’s visit. _Aqueles filhos de mães (Those sons of bitches)!"_ Tyki gritted out as he kept himself seated… though with great difficulty.

With only those clues, Mercym had no choice but to search both Road’s vlog and the comment’s section to figure out why Tyki was furious. It only took him a few seconds to see the problem.

“ _Hostia (Shit)…”_ Mercym breathed out as he rubbed at his temple. He chanced another glance at Tyki, then winced at what he saw.

To any stranger looking on at the Portuguese man, he appeared rather calm. His eyes were still affixed to his laptop, but his hands were no longer gripping the edge of the table and his face had smoothed over from its earlier rage. But Mercym knew better. Tyki wasn’t one for ranting and raging, like Sheril over Road’s male friends or Skin over a lack of sweets. Instead his fury was tranquil, kept quietly tucked away until an opportunity came for him to unleash it. And when you factor in Sheril’s connections, not to mention the Earl’s…

Right. Best to nip this in the bud.

“Tyki, can I just ask you something?” Mercym ventured. The author finally looked up, a spark of curiosity glimpsed among the darker emotions swirling in his eyes.

“What?” he nearly growled out at his cousin.

Mercym just pressed on. “Would Ellen carry out conjugal visits if you’re incarcerated for murder?”

Had Tyki been drinking his now surely cold espresso, he most assuredly would have spat it all over the Spaniard. “W-what?” he sputtered in complete bafflement. “Why the hell do you ask that?”

“So that you’ll stop yourself before you go too far,” Mercym bluntly stated as he sipped his tea. “I’m not an expert at dating, but I do know you need to take into account your partner’s feelings before making decisions that affect them. And you going to prison would be one such decision.”

“… I wouldn’t necessarily be charged with murder.”

“Tyki, be honest with me. Not even the best defense attorney in the world could help you get anything less than murder in the third degree. Besides, can you sincerely tell me that your own girlfriend won’t be able to tell that you’re lying to her about the deaths of those men?”

Tyki kept up his defensive gaze, then looked away. “No,” he reluctantly admitted to the other man.

Mercym saw the lingering anger and frustration and took pity on him. “Look, Tyki,” he addressed the author, “it’s natural for you to be upset. No one wants to read anonymous, sexual harassing comments about their significant others. And from what I know about Ellen, which admittedly boils down to what Road tells me, she deserves them the least. Still, she won’t appreciate you going around and knocking them down six-feet under.”

“… It wasn’t just them,” Tyki mumbled out.

“What was that?”

“I said that it wasn’t just those comments,” he re-iterated in a louder voice. “Yeah, reading about how some stranger wanted to bang _my_ girlfriend did piss me off. But they were only half of it. No, what was truly infuriating…”

Tyki didn’t care that the fury he still felt leaked out of his voice as he snarled out the remaining half of that sentence.

“… where those _montes de merda (pieces of shit)_ calling her a _‘zero-talented slut who should just **kill** herself’"_.

Mercym grimly kept quiet as he processed what he was just told. Truthfully, he had missed those comments as he looked through the comment section. By sheer coincidence they had been buried further down the page, leaving just the sexual harassing comments for him to see.

So, now he had the full picture. Problem was, what can he do about it?

\- x -

As Mercym contemplated what he should do next, Tyki went back to his manuscript and ferociously edited it. His anger was especially useful as he went over Joyd’s scenes, upping the ante on his more violent acts. As he went on writing, he began to reminisce on certain memories; moments of post-coital bliss with Ellen wrapped up in his arms as the two just basked in the other’s company. She was so peaceful, so unguarded during those all too brief moments that she would share not only whatever was on her mind – she would even tell him bits of her past, information that not even her closest friends were fully privy to.

Many times she would talk about her father, Mana Walker: a silly but kind clown who ignored all the warnings he received on adopting a _“foul-mouthed, stubborn tomboy”_ and gave her all the love and warmth she always wanted, but the rest of the world taught her to never expect. And despite dying just a few days before her 11th birthday, he proudly called her his daughter with his last words, even managing to leave her his childhood home in his will.

Sometimes they would be about her former guardian, Cross Marian. A man of baffling extremes. He didn’t hesitate to leave her with a small mountain of debt, drank like a fish that had the soul of a wine-snob, and the lodgings he stuck her in weren’t always 100% child appropriate. However, Cross never deliberately placed her in harms way. He made sure that she applied herself to her schoolwork, regardless of which country they were living in at that moment. And even up to the current day the man still sent her birthday presents, like her Pomeranian Timcanpy.

But then there were those times when Ellen shared less… positive memories. Like how a blind date back in college accused her of being frigid just because she refused to sleep with him that same night. Or when some female classmates in high school, jealous of all the attention Ellen got once she joined the Black Order’s under 18 division, blasted her social media accounts with photo-shopped pictures that heavily implied she slept for her spot. And _then_ there was the time one of Cross’ slimier debt collectors proposed that the then _fifteen-year old_ work off the other man’s debts via “ _the oldest profession in the world”_ … starting with _himself_!

Hearing about that last type infuriated Tyki. It made him want to track those jackasses down and give them a sample of how their behavior affected Ellen. For they did have an effect on her. She was never able to truly relax if she wasn’t in the presence of those she trusted, played down the well-deserved compliments she received on her performances, and used to turn down the vast majority of those who asked for a date – until Tyki came along, that is.

But while he longed to make them pay, he ultimately knew that Ellen wouldn’t want that. She tried to live by her father’s motto: “ _Don’t stop, keep walking.”_ Words that both amused and exasperated her boyfriend. On one hand, it meant she didn’t let old hurts (save those inflicted by Kanda) blind her from living her life. On the other hand, it also made her vulnerable to silently pushing herself beyond her limits when she should confide in someone about her problems.

Tyki’s previously frantic fingers slowed their assault on the keyboard until they finally came to a stop. He let them hover over the keys for a moment, then just let out a sigh of exhaustion as he cradled his head in his hands.

Before he started dating Ellen, his life had been rather simple. Balance his familial duties with his writing career and hobbies. Complete the Earl’s requests; entertain Road and Wisely; stop his brother from getting too touchy-feely; attend the monthly family dinners without letting the others bother him too much. Finish his current story; hang out with Clark, Momo, and Eeze, and cheat any poor sucker who joined them for a poker game; play with his Papillon, Tease; relax with a cigarette or a day of fishing. Dating as a concept barely factored in, actually – he preferred using one-night stands to fulfill his sexual needs.

And then, about one year ago, he met her. Though in a very odd way: she had wandered into the same sports bar he and his friends like to meet at and asked if she could join in on their game. The men agreed to one round, all the while silently pitying this thin and frail looking young girl and thus deciding to hold back their cheating so that she would have a fighting chance. Instead they were the ones left with a great deal less of cash as she ruthlessly laid down a royal flush, then left with her winnings and a polite goodbye.

Tyki was shocked, flabbergasted… and a little intrigued. A few days later he saw her at the same crosswalk he was using and, without thinking, went over and challenged her to a rematch at a nearby cafe. And he lost; in fact he lost so badly that he would have been left in his boxers had it not been for the venue’s “No shirt, no shoes” policy. But Ellen just gave a soft laugh as she agreed not to hold him to giving her his clothing, and even suggested meeting up again. _“Next time, why don’t we just talk,”_ she lightly teased as he blushed in embarrassment.

And so they started hanging out. These meetings weren’t anything that could be traditionally labeled as dates; rather, it was just about having fun and relaxing with no other expectations. At least at first. Soon they began to slowly learn about the other’s personal life. Little things to start with: favorite foods, current hobbies, what they thought about a certain movie, etc. Next it moved onto topics such as their jobs, the reason for Tyki’s scruffy clothing despite his well-paying job and why Ellen joined the Black Order in the first place. They even introduced the other to their respective friends, which either ended up being very hilarious or traumatic.

As their conversations and meetings grew more intimate, their mannerisms towards each other did too. The physical distance between the two gradually shrank. Casual remarks transformed into very subtle teasing. Even the text messages shared between them seemed to take on some additional, secret context that was just one step away from being decoded.

He couldn’t point out the exact moment when he fell in love with Ellen, but he could identify the exact day he finally realized it. They were at another bar, observing New York City’s nightlife through the window next to their booth as they played another game of poker. As the cards were scrutinized and discarded, they kept up a steady stream of conversation regarding whatever came to mind. Then it turned to a topic neither of them had previously brought up: relationships.

\- x -

_Ellen blinked her large silver eyes as she stared at Tyki. “Excuse me, can you repeat that?”_

_Tyki, dressed in more refined but still casual clothing, shrugged and said, “I asked if you ever had to deal with an ex still not over you?”_

_Her pink lips moved into a concerned frown as she set down her cards. “Are you in trouble, Tyki? If you need help, I could introduce you to Lavi so that he could tell you what options you can take legally.”_

_He couldn’t help the rush of warmth spreading through his body at her caring nature. “Don’t worry, menina (girl), I’m fine. I only ask because someone called in to my favorite radio station yesterday and told them all about her ex-girlfriend stalking her. It made me curious about whether you gone through similar situations since you’re a famous dancer and all that.”_

_“Oh, is that so?” Ellen sighed in relief as her hand came up and clutched at where her heart was positioned. “That’s good- ah, not for that woman, obviously. I do hope she gets help regarding her stalker. Still, at least you don’t have to worry about that… right?”_

_“I’m perfectly fine,” Tyki smiled as he reached out and gave her shoulder a reassuring squeezed. Neither of them seemed to realize that his hand lingered a few seconds before withdrawing. “I don’t date all that often, so my list of exes is considerably shorter than one belonging to someone like – oh, I don’t know – Cross. Plus I make my intent clear to them from the start.”_

_Ellen couldn’t help the snickers let loose by that jab to her former guardian, but raised an eyebrow as she processed what else he said. “ And just what is your intent?”_

_Tyki felt himself stiffen up when she asked that question. Suddenly he wished that they were at a bar that allowed smoking, if only so that he could at least stall by lighting up a cigarette. “Well,” he sighed out, “I’m not looking for anything long-term, so I try to keep things… non-committal.”_

_That raised eyebrow transitioned into narrowed eyes and a small frown. “You mean… like friends with benefits?”_

_“No, nothing like that,” Tyki tried to explain as a sudden spike of apprehension rose within. “It’s more like… I meet someone at a bar or someplace else; we start talking to see if we want the same thing, and if we do, well… you can figure out the rest.”_

_“And they’ve never said that they changed their mind and want something more serious?”_

_He couldn’t help but scratch his head as he wondered how to answer that. “Well, it’s not like I hand out my cell number to whoever asks for it,” was his admittedly weak response._

_Ellen sighed heavily and looked down before she moved to pick up her cards._

_“You know,” Tyki commented while resting his head in his free hand, “you haven’t answered my question.”_

_She stopped and looked at him with a questioning gaze. “Do you really want to hear about my past relationships?”_

_“I shared mine, menina. It’s only proper for you to share yours.”_

_The young woman rolled her eyes at his justification, but then an amused smile slipped on her face and she acquiesced._

_But as she started to talk about her own dating experience, Tyki felt something start to build up in the pit of his stomach. It was a dark and unfamiliar emotion; similar to irritation or anger, but more… selective, for lack of a better word. And it grew in intensity as Ellen moved on from talking about the blind dates a well-meaning Lenalee set her up on to her long-term boyfriends._

_Who didn’t seem to be bad people, if he was being honest with himself. The descriptions given by her varied in details, but they all sounded like they were the kind of decent young men caring parents would dream about their children dating. Hell, even the eventual breakups were more amicable than not!_

_And yet it was those same men that caused Tyki to silently grit his teeth behind a facade of calm, all the while that same dark emotion thrashed around and snarled like never before. Only the news of the relationships’ ends stilled its fury and let it relax with almost a… smug reassurance. Especially when it was Ellen who initiated the breakup and not them._

_‘Really, it’s almost as if-’_

_“So, does that answer your question?”_

_Tyki blinked for a few moments, trying to get his bearings after Ellen cut through his train of thought. Then he smirked and said, “It sure does. I don’t see why you were so reluctant to talk about it. You’re better at picking dates than most people I know.”_

_“Yes, well...” Ellen sheepishly shrugged her shoulders before picking up her cards, “when you live with a man like Cross, you quickly learn how to read other people and their intentions. As much as I hate to admit it, I do owe him for that.”_

_“Enough to volunteer to pay for his visit to the liquor store?”_

_“Hell no!” she snapped back in a rare, public display of anger. “And if you ever say that again, I will strip you of everything you own the next time we play!”_

_“Alright, calm down,” a slightly nervous Tyki said as he hurriedly laid his down his cards and raised his hands up in appeasement. “I was only joking around.”_

_Ellen kept her angry stare fixed on him for several more nervous-sweating seconds. Then, once she saw he was properly cowed, let out a satisfied huff and went back to her cards._

_‘That was close,’ Tyki thought as he let out a silent sigh of relief. He had already seen the consequences of when Kanda pissed her off with one too many comments, and he had no desire being the target of that fury._

_But that was Ellen for you. She might seem like just another nice young lady, but underneath that pure outer layer was an ever-shifting mix of contradictions that continued to surprise and amuse him as time went by._

_‘Really, it’s just another thing to love about her.’_

_That one absent-minded thought, something that flitted though his mind as he fondly stared at how Ellen concentrated on her cards, started a mental avalanche. Tyki suddenly stilled, cycling through several emotions before he arrived at his final destination._

_Confusion._

_‘Wait, love?’_

_Rationalization._

_‘Well, she is my friend. That’s a kind of love; platonic love.’_

_‘And really, what’s not to love about Ellen? She’s attractive, bright and cares for her friends. Anyone would want her for a girlfriend._ _’_

_Denial._

_‘Not that I do.’_

_Suspicion._

_‘Though that feeling I kept getting while she talked about her ex-boyfriends… that wasn’t normal. I’ve never felt that way hearing about Lulu Bell’s exes. Yes, she’s family, but Ellen is important to me as well.’_

_‘It also eased once she mentioned the relationships ending...’_

_Realization._

_‘Wait… it was **jealousy**.’_

_‘I was **jealous** of her exes, because I want her for myself.’_

_‘Because I love her…’_

_‘… merda.’_

\- x -

It took time for Tyki to come to terms with his feelings for her. Not much; it was laughably easy for him to mentally list out just why he loved her. But then came an even more daunting task: what to do about it. He had basically shot himself in the foot that day when he said he didn’t go for serious relationships. A smart woman like her probably wouldn’t believe any claims of love and commitment after that. Besides, while she always played along with his teasing, she never did anything to indicate that she wanted him in a romantic way.

And yet…

Tyki wasn’t one for working hard, outside of his writing. He was perfectly fine with passing through life on minimal effort. Honestly, most of it was saved for dealing with his very eccentric family.

But now, for the first time ever, he met someone who he wanted to be with. Someone who deserved all the effort he had, not what he could spare. And he would not just stand by and let someone else sweep her off her feet. So he resolved to ask her out on a date the next time they met up.

That time soon arrived. But instead of Tyki telling Ellen that he loved her, it was the other way around.

Interpreting his blank expression as a sign of confusion, she hurriedly began to explain why she confessed. Like Tyki, Ellen had also recently realized that she saw the other as a love interest rather than just another friend. In fact, and here he _really_ kicked himself, she would have told him that night at the bar had he not told her of his previous preference for non-commitment. But after spending a day in contemplation, she decided to just risk the (to her) very likely chance of rejection and tell Tyki how she felt. _“Of course,”_ she added, starting to feel discouraged by his prolonged silence, _“I’ll understand if you only want to stay friends…”_

Realizing that he was messing up once again, Tyki’s brain commanded him to _‘ **do** something, seu bobo (you idiot)!’ _

And he did. Quite clearly. Yes, suddenly reaching out and pulling Ellen into a crushing kiss all the while in the middle of the sidewalk wasn’t exactly the same as verbally telling her he liked her too and really wanted to go on a date with her. But given the way she melted into the kiss and wrapped her arms around his neck, the intended message was received.

Their first date, first make-out session, first official meeting with the other’s family, first time having sex together – so many relationship milestones were achieved as time went on. They did have problems, of course – all couples do, no matter what they claim otherwise – but they managed to work through them all. And the days wore on, Tyki began to suspect that they were going to stay together for a long time.

“-ki.”

So just why, _why_ couldn’t he do something about those _fucking_ comments?

“-yki. _Tyki!_ ”

The Portuguese man snapped back to reality. He turned his head to the left, where Mercym was standing with tea and shoulder bag.

“You finished, then?”

Mercym nodded and said, “Everything’s ready for next week. Which is good, seeing as the sun has almost set right now.”

Tyki blinked, then looked out of the window. Just like Mercym had said, the sky was now a narrow bar of burning orange buried under a gradient of pink and blue. The shadows solidified with each passing second, kept only at bay by the streetlights, passing cars, and the odd illuminated sign.

“Huh, time really does fly…” he idly observed.

“It sure does. Well, see you at the next family dinner.”

“See you, then. It’s next Thursday, right?”

“No, next Saturday. It was moved to then because Jasdero and Devit’s parent-teacher conference was rescheduled.”

Tyki smirked at that piece of news. “I don’t know who to pity more: the twins, the Earl, or the teacher.”

Mercym chuckled and started to turn towards the exit. However he then paused and looked back at Tyki. “One more thing: if you’re going to see Ellen later today, you two should talk about Road’s vlog.”

Tyki quickly realized that he was talking about more than just Ellen’s part in the video. “Mercym-”

The teacher held up his hand, cutting the other off. “Communication is vital in a relationship, Tyki. The last thing you want to do is sweep what bothers you under the rug. And she would want to hear it from you rather than though another source.”

“Oh? Are _you_ going to tell her, then?”

“I don’t need to. Wisely is great at accurately predicting what’s on a person’s mind… and will reliably blurt it out at the least appropriate moment.”

Damn. He had a point there.

“… It won’t make a difference, Mercym,” Tyki slumped in defeat. “She’ll just tell me to ignore them and that she won’t let negative attention get to her since she has me and her friends. But it still does; I can see how it makes her rely more on her mask in public and keeps her from relying on us.”

“Then work on it, Tyki. Tell her how it affects _both of you_ when she tries to shoulder the burden alone. That by not wanting to bother you or others, she instead makes you all _worry_ for her. Remind her that she needs to trust you with all her major problems. You two are in it for the long haul, after all.”

Tyki sat there, blinking in astonishment at everything Mercym just told him. “We’ve only been dating for six months.”

“Which, in contrast to your dating history, just proves that you’re serious about her. If you’re not at least engaged by this time next year, I’ll give up my shades.”

The Portuguese man let out a snort at the Spaniard’s quip. “I thought you said you weren’t an expert on dating.”

“You’ll be surprised at what you’ll learn as a teacher.”

And with that last remark, Mercym finally made his goodbyes and left for home.

Now Tyki was left in a noticeably quieter cafe, wondering what to do now. He didn’t think he’ll make anymore progress with his manuscript, and he plenty of time left to work on it.

_‘I should just go home,’_ he decided as he saved his progress. Tease was undoubtedly waiting for his return and hadn’t yet grown out of his biting habit. Plus he could call Ellen over so they would cuddle and flirt… and talk.

_‘It’s time we discuss this, once and for all.’_

However, just as he powered down his laptop and started to gather up his things, his cell phone chimed to alert him to a new text message from Road.

**[hi, Tyki! did u see my vlog video 2day? – Road (5:30 PM)]**

That’s Road for you; she went straight for the jugular whenever she wanted something. He sent a quick reply back.

**[Yeah, I did – Tyki (5:31 PM)]**

**[gr8! :D which part did u like da best? – Road (5:32 PM)]**

Hmm… give her an honest answer, or just mess with her? Yeah, option #2 sounded a lot more fun.

**[The part I watched – Tyki (5:33 PM)]**

**[ >:( TYKI! >: ( – Road (5:33 PM)]**

**[DON’T MAKE ME TELL DADDY! – Road (5:34 PM)]**

**[OR MILLENNIE! – Road (5:34 PM)]**

Uh-oh, she was getting huffy.

**[Sorry, Road. But I did only watch one part – Tyki (5:35 PM)]**

**[hmph! >:< why not da whole thing? – Road (5:36 PM)]**

**[It’s 1 hour long, Road. And I was working – Tyki (5:37 PM)]**

**[is that what u call it? – Road (5:37 PM)]**

Ouch.

**[Very funny – Tyki (5:38 PM)]**

**[^v^ - Road (5:38 PM)]**

**[so what did u watch then? - Road (5:39 PM)]**

**[it was Ellen right? ¬‿¬ - Road (5:40 PM)]**

Huh. Well, that saved him some time.

**[Yep – Tyki (5:40 PM)]**

**[:D – Road (5:40 PM)]**

**[:DD – Road (5:40 PM)]**

**[I KNEW IT! - Road (5:41 PM)]**

**[Tyki ure such a perv only watching her dancing~ XD – Road (5:42 PM)]**

**[Hey, she’s my girlfriend – Tyki (5:42 PM)]**

**[LOL – Road (5:42 PM)]**

**[oh right i wanted 2 show u something~ – Road (5:43 PM)]**

**[wisely cut it from da video – Road (5:43 PM)]**

**[but i think ull really like it~! – Road (5:44 PM)]**

Tyki raised an eyebrow in curiosity.

**[Oh? What is it? - Tyki (5:45 PM)]**

In response, Road went ahead and sent a two-minute long video a few seconds later. The thumbnail showed Ellen, indicating it was from Road and Wisely’s trip to the Black Order.

When Tyki hit the play button, after lowering the volume so that only he could hear it, the video began with Ellen already on the pole in the same complex pose last seen in the vlog. He realized she had been using the rotating pole then, as now she was slightly moving to the right. Then she slowly, sensually transitioned into a sit. All the while the last musical notes of Beyoncé’s _Drunk in Love_ echoed throughout the room.

Her closed eyes fluttered open as the next song – electropop, judging by the opening notes – began to play. She twirled as she slid down the pole, stepped down to the ground but kept one hand gripped tight.

_“Hey, Ellen?”_ Road chirped from where she sat close by the poles.

‘ _ **You’re the light, you’re the night; You’re the color of my blood...’**_

_“Yes, Road?”_ Ellen sighed as she hooked a leg around the pole and began to twirl around.

_**'You’re the cure, you’re the pain; You’re the only thing I wanna touch...’**_

“Isn’t there anyone you want to give a shout-out to?”

_‘ **'Never knew that it could mean so much, so much...’**_

The older woman tilted her head in mock confusion as she knelt on the floor, her back arched like a crescent moon. _“Oh? Like who?”_

_**'You’re the fear, I don’t care; ‘Cause I’ve never been so high...’**_

_“Road’s thinking it should be someone special,”_ Wisely chimed in off screen. _“Someone that watches the vlog and who you’re very close to.”_

_**'Follow me through the dark; Let me take you past our satellites... ’**_

_“Do you know anyone like that, Ellen?”_ grinned out a knowing Road.

_**'You can see the world you brought to life; to life...’**_

_“_ _Hmm...”_ Ellen looked towards the camera and let out that soft laugh Tyki just loved to hear. _“As a matter of fact…”_

_**'So love me like you do, lo-lo-love me like you do…’**_

The dancer got up and performed another spin move that brought her in close. Each move after that grew in intensity, matching the progression of the chorus. Some Tyki had already seen in the vlog; others were clearly new to him.

Finally Ellen stopped. She motioned Wisely to zoom in, and the teenager obliged. When the camera presented a clear shot of her face, she kissed the palm of her hand and gently blew it forwards. Her eyes glowed with love and tenderness, and a sincere smile stretched her face.

_“This one’s for you, Tyki.”_

_**'What are you waiting for?’** _

Tyki stood there, surprised into silence, for a few minutes after the video ended. Then he just laughed.

_‘Ah… you always seem to surprise me at the most unexpected times,’_ he thought as he gazed down at his phone.

And so Tyki finally left the cafe with his laptop, one very cold espresso and a lighter spirit.

He was on his way home; a place where the most fascinating woman he ever met should be waiting once she got his call.

**\- xXx -**

**Cultural Notes:**

**Mercym’s new name – So yeah, I decided to give him a new name for this story. Since Hoshino listed Mercym’s nationality as Spanish, I went to Behind the Name’s website for Spanish names. And since it’s customary for Spaniards to have two surnames (the first is their father’s first surname, the second is their mother’s), he’s got two surnames as well. I decided against giving him two first names, though.**

**'Diego’ (First name): Possibly derived from the Greek word _didache_ , which means ‘teaching’. Famous name bearers include Saint Didacus (or Diego), a 15th century Franciscan brother; Mexican muralist Diego Rivera; and Argentine soccer player Diego Maradona.**

****

****

**'Prieto’ (Father’s first surname, or _apellido paterno_ ): Derived from a nickname meaning ‘dark’ in Spanish. Refers to someone with dark hair or skin.**

**'Espina’ (Mother’s first surname, or _apellido materno_ ): Means ‘thorn’ in Spanish. Originally given to those who lived near a thorn bush.**

**Dance troupes – Pretty self-explanatory, but I thought I should mention a few things about them. As they are a company, they have a board of directors and education administrators as well as directors, producers, dancers, etc. The types of dance companies are as numerous as those of dance styles. There is evidence that they were first formed during Greek and Roman times; they worked in theaters and performed musicals, entertaining high class patrons.**

**Aerial silks – A style of performance where one or more people perform aerial acrobatics using one single or two looped pieces of fabric. Tricks fall into one of three categories: drops, climbs and wraps. Origin isn’t clear, but was started either in the late 80s or 90s.**

**Acro dance – Modern dance sub-genre that combines classical dance with precise acrobatic movements. It’s very athletic and is popular with amateur dance competitions, professional dance theaters and contemporary circuses. The performers must wear special footwear to protect their feet from the rough dance floor.**

**Pole dance – This is also well-known in pop culture (via strippers and gentleman’s clubs), but does deserve a few more details as well. Pole dancing is a good way to exercise since it can be used for both aerobic and anaerobic workouts; there are several (non-nude) pole dance competitions that are held around the world, with some people even pushing for its inclusion in the Olympics; the pole itself is either hollowed-out chrome, steel or brass and works best when attached to the ceiling; using poles for exercise can be traced back at least 800 years ago to the Indian sport of mallakhamb; and both genders enjoy performing as mainstream acceptance grows.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow… The latter half went to some dark and deep places, huh? I was planning a more gallows humor scenario regarding what Tyki saw in the comments, but my brain decided it was angst time instead. Really, I spent quite a few minutes crying as I typed this out. But at least it ended on a high note.
> 
> I do hope you guys didn’t find Mercym’s relationship advice too cheesy. I’m a novice when it comes to writing stuff like that. Though it looks like I’ve made him the family therapist as well as a kindergarten teacher…
> 
> Oh, here are the songs from Ellen’s playlist (in no particular order):
> 
> Love Me Like You Do – Ellie Goulding  
> Breathe Me – Sia  
> Skin – Rihanna  
> Bring Me to Life – Evanescence  
> Drunk in Love – Beyoncé ft. Jay-Z 
> 
> I got them from a YouTube playlist created by Shell Tomlin. It’s titled ‘Pole Dance Playlist’ and has artists ranging from Britney Spears to Nine Inch Nails!
> 
> Another plot bunny bites the dust! Which one is next? Probably a historical AU; seriously, I’m coming up with so many that are set in this or that century it isn’t funny.
> 
> Please leave a comment! Your attention is what keeps me going!


	4. Her (Secret) Favorite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's hard being Queen... especially when you have someone who really wants you, but custom compels you not to be with them.
> 
> Then again...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there, everyone! Well, it finally happened. I went and wrote a story that includes sex! So as of this chapter, the rating for DGM Plot Bunny Round-Up will change from M to E! Which means I should probably think of including story-specific ratings...
> 
> This story was inspired by PokerPair Week 2k19 Day 3’s prompt: Royal’s AU. The 18th century, to be specific! This prompt really lit my imagination; I have several pages of notes about place names, titles… I even drew up a royal family tree and downloaded a copy to my laptop! Explanations will be given in the ending notes.
> 
> Warning: PokerPair; Fem!Allen Walker; Past Howard LinkxAllen Walker; Mentioned Noise MariexMiranda Lotto; Mentioned LavixChomesuke/Sachiko; Minor Character Death; Talk of arranged/political marriages; Forbidden relationship; 18th Century AU (mostly the first half); Smut and sex; A author using Wikipedia, the Internet, and YouTube for research purposes; Lots of World building; Lots of un-named Ocs for plot purposes; Probable OOC-ness; Deliberate Values Dissonance (this is nearly 300 years ago, after all); and a load of 18th century slang!
> 
> Disclaimer: (Looks at D. Gray – Man, then this story, and finishes with a raised eyebrow towards the audience) Should I really point out the obvious…? Eh, probably; I don’t want to get sued. I don’t own anything connected to the D. Gray – Man series.

_**Her (Secret) Favourite** _

**Her Majesty’s Private Bedroom, St Thomas’s Palace**

**The Prydish Isles**

“Are you sure you don’t require anything else, Your Majesty?” asked the First Lady of the Bedchamber as several servants diligently removed a large wooden bathtub, along with the other accouterments of a late night bath, from the royal bedroom.

Ellen, Queen of Eileanprydain and Toscaterza, serenely looked at the highest ranking lady of her household as she sat wrapped in linen sheets and in front of the lit fireplace. “Yes, I am quite sure. You and the rest of my ladies-in-waiting,” she now gestured to the other noblewomen present in her room, “are free to spend the next half hour by yourselves while I wait to fully dry.”

The First Lady of the Bedchamber raised an eyebrow in response. “Please forgive me, Your Majesty, but I can’t help but find this offer, generous though it might be, all rather… unorthodox. Surely at least one of the Women of the Bedchamber should stay behind to keep you company.”

The other noblewomen turned their heads toward their monarch, carefully watching to see whether she would take offense at their social superior’s comment. Gossip was their mode of currency, and the right bit could help to elevate their male relatives in the game of politics. That, or just to entertain whoever they shared it with. To the inner disappointment of more than a few, however, the young queen graciously nodded and smiled to the older woman. “I understand that. However, I thought that with the royal tour of Toscaterza coming up next week, it would more prudent to allow you all to finish any last minute preparations rather than just idly wait on me without anything to do.”

“As for company,” she reasoned as she gestured to the sole remaining maid in the room, “I will have De Yopan here to render any necessary aid in your absence.”

The lady’s maid in question, a tall young woman with brown hair, paused in putting away the Queen’s discarded clothes to demurely curtsy to the First Lady of the Bedchamber. The older woman, however, pursed her lips together in subtle dissatisfaction. Servants were useful, of course – that was their duty, after all – but a lady’s maid wasn’t at all the best company for a queen. Only a noblewoman could fill that role.

_‘Of course, it wasn’t like Her Majesty was properly instructed on matters like this,’_ the First Lady wryly thought to herself. The Queen’s mother, Julia of Nivose, had died just hours after giving birth to her. Normally this would matter little, as royal children were always raised by nannies and governesses who thus became the primary objects of said children’s affections. But the late King Mana, suffering great melancholy over his wife’s death, only allowed one wet nurse to attend to the then princess while he spent every spare moment he had with her. He even spurred his privy council’s advice on marrying again to provide his daughter a proper female role model – and perhaps to provide the throne a real, _male heir_ – to instead insure that her future rule of a new political union and a former grand duchy, the latter which had never been ruled by a woman and thus balked at the very notion, would be as smooth as possible.

All that time with her father, plus her later years being shepherded about the Continent by the Black Order Republic’s General Cross Marian, helped to form rather peculiar habits for a royal; a few of which Her Majesty had just unfortunately demonstrated.

Still, she was only twenty. And bad habits, though tough, can still be broken...

“So I will just send for a Woman of the Bedchamber and the Dresser once I am ready for bed,” the young queen said, cutting through the First Lady’s thoughts. She then turned around to address the other ladies present. “Really, it is a good opportunity to make sure your wardrobes are just right for all the official ceremonies and balls to be held in Toscaterza. We must make a good impression on the local aristocracy there, after all.”

The young unmarried ladies gasped and giggled, fantasizing about handsome noblemen to flirt with and sigh over during those encounters. The matrons present perked up with glinting eyes, mentally going over which Toscaterzian nobles would be appropriate to form new social ties with, either by political collaborations or marriage via younger relatives. And those married women and widows still possessing great beauty hid smirks behind their fans, thinking about just how much _fun_ they could get away with on the trip.

The First Lady suppressed the urge to grit her teeth as she watched her peers lose focus. Really, these were the best noblewomen connected to the Gamoround party? _‘Useless feather-heads, the lot of them.’_

“And of course,” the Queen continued, “there is also the matter of coordinating with the Lord Chamberlain of the Household. Not that I doubt the current plans for this trip are anything less than flawless, but he surely will appreciate your eye for detail when it comes to tying up loose ends. Especially considering the matter of my dresses…”

The First Lady, who also held the position of Mistress of the Robes, blinked. “Your dresses, Your Majesty?” she asked, a small note of dread starting to rise up.

“Well, my entire wardrobe really,” the younger woman specified with a regal nod of the head. “Earlier today I was informed by the Lord Chamberlain that the volume of clothing I plan on bringing might hinder our travel. He did make two valuable points: there is only so much cargo space on ships, even royal ones; and Toscaterza’s hilly terrain will make overland travel with too much baggage more cumbersome.”

“Granted, it was already difficult deciding what to pack the first time,” Queen Ellen mused as the First Lady adopted a stony expression while absorbing just how much the Lord Chamberlain messed up her plans. “Still, if I have to reduce the amount of clothing, then I will.” Now the younger woman smiled as a new thought came to mind. “In fact, this could be a good moment to add more Toscaterzian-made outfits after our arrival. The war with the Noah ended months ago, and the peace treaty has left the royal household with more than sufficient funds for such an expense. Even better, my wearing clothing made by their countrymen could help show the Toscaterzians their land is equal to Eileanprydain. Do you not think so?”

“It would certainly help them feel more appreciated, Your Majesty,” the First Lady reluctantly agreed.

Queen Ellen gave her elder a content smile back. “I am pleased you agree with me. We still have a week until the day of departure, so you have enough time to rearrange the matters of my wardrobe. But I do think the Lord Chamberlain will want to talk with you at the earliest convenience.”

_‘Oh, I’ll **talk** with him, all right…’_

“Of course, Your Majesty,” the First Lady agreed with as much dignity as she could muster. She then curtsied to the young queen and said, “Then, if you’ll excuse me, Your Majesty. I simply must find the Lord Chamberlain right away.”

After exchanging formal goodbyes with Queen Ellen, the First Lady stood straight up and glided out the door held opened by De Yopan. The other ladies-in-waiting also bade farewell to their monarch, though their exit produced much more noise compared to their superior’s.

De Yopan spent the next ten seconds after the last noblewoman left with her ear pressed to the left door. Once she was sure that no one was coming back, the maid let out a sigh of relief.

“Ugh, I thought they would never leave!” she moaned while dramatically sliding down to the floor.

Ellen shook her head and laughed. “Try not to be too loud, Chomesuke. There’s still a chance someone outside could overhear us.”

Chomesuke snorted, but got off the floor and walked over to Ellen. “That’s just what I need,” she complained as she picked up a soft towel left on the table next to the queen. “Some busybody telling me off for not showing _'proper respect to your betters.'_ Ha! Like that gaggle of geese are shining examples. One half are conniving muffin-wallopers grasping for even more power, while the other half are pudding-headed fellows who couldn’t find their way out of an open tent.”

“That’s not very charitable, Cho.”

The young maid took the towel and started gently rubbing the queen’s long auburn hair. “No, but it’s the truth. Why do you have to put up with them, anyway?”

Ellen sent a questioning look. “Are you talking about those women in particular, or ladies-in-waiting in general?”

“Them in particular. Your previous ladies-in-waiting were alright, since they actually had some common sense; why did you have to switch them out for that lot?”

Ellen sighed and stared into the fireplace. “Politics, I’m afraid. My previous royal household members were all connected to the then majority party in Parliament, the Cavórai party. Now that the Gamorounds are in power, the top positions have to be given to them.”

Chomesuke shook her head as she continued drying Ellen’s hair. “I still don’t understand why you Prydish need a two-party system to run the government. The Gams and Cavs seem to spend just as much time attacking each other as they do foreign enemies. Meanwhile you can’t do much politically without them complaining of overstepped boundaries. You, the _queen_ herself!”

“That’s how a constitutional monarchy works, Cho,” Ellen began to explain as her friend went to exchange the towel for a silver comb and hair ribbon. She couldn’t blame Chomesuke for still being baffled by Prydain’s politics and culture.The maid was originally from the Kingdom of Noah, a country whose king held absolute power over all. And the Estate she had been born into, the Akuma, had little political power as a whole against the other two Estates – despite their superior numbers.

Prydain, or Eileanprydain to be more precise, was an entirely different matter. The bill of rights written during the reign of Ellen’s grandfather made sure that future monarchs couldn’t abuse their royal power. What’s more, Parliament’s decision not to renew the Licensing Act made satirizing the powers that be laughably easy. Which paled in comparison to Toscaterza and the massive headache of trying to bring that region into the fold while still keeping everything else the same. And if you even _mentioned_ the colonies...

Ellen’s voice had a hard undertone as she pointed out the following fact. “A monarch here can’t just do whatever they want and damn the consequences. The last Campbell king who tried doing so ended up on the scaffold. Without the use of his head.”

Chomesuke couldn’t help but gulp at that grisly image. She had seen plenty of suffering throughout her lifetime, but even she found the thought of beheading to be quite unsettling. She was therefore grateful once Ellen changed topics.

“But it’s not like I’m completely helpless when it comes to politics. While I can’t help make the laws, I can push certain MPs to vote for the ones I favor. I also am free to sit in on parliamentary discussions, so that I can know what exactly I’m supporting.” Ellen’s lavender gaze softened before she reached up and patted Chomesuke’s arm. It was the most she could do, seeing as the latter had just finished with combing and was now plaiting the former’s hair. “It’s not perfect, by any means. Only a small selection of men can vote, those who can generally favor laws that suit only them, and the Toscaterzians-”

“Who are still moaning about the fact that their current ruler has tits instead of balls,” Chomesuke dryly cut in.

Ellen cleared her throat and continued, “- their needs still aren’t represented adequately by Parliament.” She sighed, then looked down at her slipper-covered feet. “Honestly, it will take several decades to solve those problems, not to mention any new ones that are bound to crop up. However,” Ellen raised her gaze to look into the fire with fierce determination, “I am the queen of Eileanprydain and Toscaterza. It is my duty to serve my people – no matter who they are – and protect the lands I rule over with everything I have.”

Chomesuke was silent for a few seconds, then sighed out loud. “Well, if there’s any ruler ready to tackle those problems it’s you,” she reasoned while tying the ribbon into a neat bow. “Was that something you learned while we were in the Black Order Republic? ‘Cuz I don’t see that kind of fire among the other nobles in this palace.”

Ellen suppressed the urge to giggle as she finally turned around to send her friend a large grin. “In a manner of speaking, yes. Remember how we stayed at the Lee residence? You were never around to see it, but Komui Lee kept his office in an… unusual state.”

“How unusual?”

“Well… there was one time… actually several times… that Lenalee and I… found him…” here Ellen unleashed her laughter, “sound asleep under a four-foot stack of papers!”

Chomesuke gasped in disbelief. “Wait, really? How come this is the first time I heard about this?”

Ellen sighed as her giggling fit died down. “I suppose because it happened so often, everyone working there just assumed that everyone else already knew about Komui’s procrastination. And I never told you because I thought it rude to gossip about our host.”

The maid nodded absently. “And he would stay asleep even after you removed the papers?” she asked.

“Like the dead,” Ellen confirmed. “We would shake him, yell at the top of our lungs – no response. The only thing that could wake him was Lenalee saying _‘I will marry the next man who walks in through the front door if you don’t finish your paperwork!’_ ” Then she let out another giggle. “And it worked every time, too. Granted, we would then have to stop Komui from trying to kill Reever or another poor soul later on, but all the documents were sorted out by then.”

Chomesuke let out giggles of her own, trying not to drop the pre-warmed banyan she was now fetching for Ellen, “So, he was a good example of how not to act?”

“Exactly.” That caused another round of laughter from Chomesuke as she helped Ellen put the black silk banyan on.

“And it was more than likely reinforced by how straight-laced your hus-” The maid gasped and slapped her hand over her mouth once she belatedly realized her error. With great reluctance, she removed her hand and looked over at Ellen.

The queen was still looking at the fireplace, but the stiffness of her shoulders, tight grip on the banyan and flash of pain in her eyes were clear to see.

“I’m s-sorry, Ellen,” Chomesuke stammered as she curtsied low to her queen. Not out of fear, but out of remorse. “I wasn’t think-”

Her apology was cut short by Ellen sinking down to her knees and wrapping the other in an embrace. “It’s alright, Cho,” she reassured her now silent friend. “You have nothing to apologize over. I just… I just miss him.”

Chomesuke sighed and returned the hug. “Still, I shouldn’t have mentioned him. You only stopped mourning a few months ago.”

Ellen let out a rather helpless bit of laughter as she averted her eyes from her friend. “Yes, I’ve finished that. Any further would have been excessive, and contrary to what he would had wanted. Even so…” she trailed off, then released Chomesuke from her hug and stood up to walk over to her left bedside table. Miniatures of close friends and family, both living and dead, were clustered on top with little space for anything else. She picked up one situated up front in the center and sat down on her luxurious bed. In it, staring up at her with unseeing eyes, was the face of her late husband: Howard von Link, Prince-Elector of Krähe-Zentral and Consort of the Prydish Monarch.

“You know, it’s rather strange,” she murmured while tracing the outline of his face with her index finger. “Our marriage had been arranged by my regent and his family friend, so it was by no means a love match. Even if you had asked me if we loved each other right before his death, I don’t think I would have said _‘yes.’_ At least, not in a romantic sense.”

“But despite all that, we were able to grow close during our one year of married life. He could be strict, yes; but he was also dutiful, thoughtful and always listened to what I had to say.” Ellen then turned her head to give Chomesuke a dry grin and huffed, “That last attribute being especially hard to find in a husband these days.”

Chomesuke, who also moved to the bed during Ellen’s musing, snickered at that last remark.

“In the end, he became a dear friend and confidant,” the young queen finished with a sad, soft smile as she pressed the miniature to her chest. “The most I would have asked of a royal marriage, really.”

“Not to mention his secret sweet tooth further endeared him to you. Right?”

Ellen’s smile grew more sheepish. “Maybe…”

The two women laughed, then sighed and laid down on the bed. “Yeah, Prince Howard was a decent guy in the end,” Chomesuke nodded as she stared up at the rich canopy. The maid then frowned and waved a hand in the direction of Ellen’s writing desk. “Nothing like those lobcocks your privy council are making you consider now.”

Ellen softly groaned. Immediately after she finished the year-long mourning period for her husband, the privy council had approached her on the matter of her new consort. It was inevitable, really. Since her previous marriage had failed to produce an heir, it was time to re-marry so that she could birth her successor. As such the privy council presented Ellen with a tall stack of reports detailing several eligible princes, noblemen and any other men whose rank or lineage was suitable enough to become the husband of a queen. But this time, instead having a regent decide who she should marry, the queen was old enough to choose for herself.

And Ellen was forever grateful for that. The reports, now secured in her writing desk, complied what the privy council considered the most important details: the men’s titles and lands, their family history, why marrying them would benefit Eileanprydain and Toscaterza, etc. Now, that information _was_ important and did need to be considered. But the reports left out other things that she wanted to know, like how they treated their servants or what were their thoughts on female rulers. That led the queen to gather whatever she could learn about these men from noblewomen who had ties to them. What she had learned through this tactic left her… less than impressed. It seemed that every man the privy council approved of had some sort of character flaw that made the thought of them as her consort hard to accept. These weren’t just minor flaws, either; these included defects like treating those below them on the social ladder like utter trash, or refusing to recognize the children they’ve fathered on prostitutes or their seduced conquests. Some of this information could have been over-blown rumors, but a lot of it often came from very reliable sources. Chomesuke had been even less charitable with her opinions once the queen shared her findings with the maid.

“Are you sure that they listed all the eligible men for you?” the maid asked as she sat up and moved off the bed. She walked over to Ellen’s desk to look at the small clock perched above it. Ten minutes had passed since the noblewomen left. “Despite being a republic, the Black Order does have many noblemen of old families and rank. Maybe one of them…?”

Ellen shook her head at the query. “I’ve already asked the privy council about that. The alliance between Eileanprydain and the Black Order Republic is very strong, so there’s really no need for a political marriage. And even if that wasn’t the case, there aren’t any single individuals of a rank suitable for becoming my Consort. Or so they say.”

_‘Well I say that last one’s stupid. Should rank really trump all in this situation?’_ Chomesuke thought with building disbelief as she lit two candles before grabbing one and walking over to the drawer. Ellen was the last member of the House of Campbell, after all. If she happened to die without an heir, then the throne of Eileanprydain and Toscaterza would go to the next person in line: King Adam VII of Noah. But because he had recently tried and failed to seize Ellen’s crown on grounds of her youth and gender, in addition to his dismal treatment of the Akuma, the Prydish public would not stand him becoming their monarch.

If he did become king, civil war would be the obvious outcome; something that Ellen, her privy council, Parliament and all others in the political game desperately wanted to avoid.

Ellen’s eyes were unfocused as she put her husband’s miniature back on the bedside table. She was most likely having the same thoughts as Chomesuke. “That might be for the best, though. I already know all the noblemen in the Black Order from my years living there, and none of them would be a perfect fit for Consort.”

Chomesuke looked up from riling through the drawer in confusion. “All of them? Are you sure?”

Ellen walked over to her desk and opened a small drawer, retrieving a deck of playing cards. “Yes, I’m sure.”

“What about…” Chomesuke pulled out a linen shift as she tried to remember which of Ellen’s male friends were married or single. “… Lord Noise Marie?”

Ellen looked at Chomesuke with a raised eyebrow. “Cho… he married Miranda last month.”

“Oh, yeah… how are they doing, by the way?”

“Judging by her last letter, they’re settling into married life quite happily,” Ellen chuckled as she sat down at her desk, shuffling the cards.

“Well, that’s good,” Chomesuke mumbled as she laid out the shift on Ellen’s bed. “Okay, what about Lord Arystar Krory? He’s only a baron, but he’s also descended from royalty if you go back far enough on his family tree.”

Ellen just shook her head. “There are two reasons why it can’t be him. First of all, he’s still mourning Eliade-”

“Still!? She’s been dead for nearly five years now!”

“And second of all,” Ellen continued over Chomesuke’s shocked outcry, “Krory is too trusting of others. He would be in danger of being manipulated by my more unsavory courtiers, not to mention foreign enemies, into getting them whatever they want.”

Chomesuke couldn’t deny that. She had met the nice but utterly naïve nobleman herself. And while Ellen would certainly protect him when they were both in Prydain, he would be left vulnerable as regent during her trips to Toscaterza.

“Fair enough. Hmm… Lords Barry, Laboun and Reed all died during the war… so did Lord Suman Dark, but he was married, anyway… what about Lord Chaozii Han?”

Ellen hid a wince. “Chaozii is very loyal to his friends, but hates compromising with people he dislikes. In which case…”

“Lord Han would basically become a nightmare of a consort, politically?”

The queen nodded as Chomesuke finished her statement. “And personally, I’m afraid,” she added while dealing out cards for a one-man game of Brusquembille. “He’s still hasn’t forgiven me for my actions after the battle of White Ark.”

The maid pursed her lips and nodded. As Ellen’s closest servant, Chomesuke personally witnessed the talks over the two main consequences of that battle: the captured city of White Ark, and Akuma prisoners of war. They were able to quickly come to a consensus about the city: have it absorbed into Toscaterza and the Black Order Republic given open military access for the remainder of the war. But then a heated argument broke out over what to do about their captives.

There was not so much disagreement over their eventual fate – sent back to their homeland once the war was over – as there was over their treatment until then. Prison life was harsh and grueling, even for petty thieves back home. And once the factor of how the Noah army treated enemy combatants or civilians unlucky enough to be at their mercy was considered, the Black Order army wasn’t inclined to treat captured Akuma soldiers well. In fact, Chaozii had been part of a group that advocated denying them prisoner of war status and instead keep them imprisoned on decommissioned ships until victory was reached. When others had pointed out the squalid conditions that would await the Akuma on board such ships, Chaozii had coldly replied, _“They’re our enemy; It’s more than they deserve.”_

Ellen, however, had been appalled by that sentiment and protested those plans. After many meetings and exchange of letters, she had managed to get the Akuma guarded by her own people instead of those from the Black Order Republic, the former being the least likely to commit abuse. What’s more, she went ahead and personally supplied the prisoners of war with amenities that they normally would had to have secured by themselves. Chaozii was among those furious by her show of generosity, and had not been appeased by her justification of _“They are still human beings, Lord Han. Most were pressed into this conflict by order of their king, not because they enjoy killing. To consider ourselves enlightened while needlessly torturing them is most distasteful to my own sense of morality, let alone the public’s.”_

_‘Which demonstrated that Ellen is a far better person than he is,’_ Chomesuke viciously concluded as she cleaned Ellen’s comb. Then her hands stilled as the next man came to mind. “What about… Lavi, of the House of Bookman?”

Ellen blinked in confusion. “Why Lavi?”

“Well, his house has been around for centuries,” Chomesuke reasoned, still not looking at the other, “so his lineage has got to impressive enough for your aristocrats. Besides, Lavi is genial but observant. You wouldn’t have to worry about him being taken advantage of, or making rash decisions in your absence.”

Ellen suddenly realized why Chomesuke sounded so reluctant, then turned around to hide a smile. “That’s quite true, Cho,” she agreed, taking note of how the maid seem to wilt ever so slightly. “But I doubt that the head of the Bookman, Lavi’s grandfather, would accept such an offer.”

The maid now stopped what she was doing to look at her queen. “Why?”

Ellen paused her game to give Chomesuke her full attention. “As you know, the House of Bookman is rather unusual compared to other noble houses. It rose to prominence not through combat or finance, but through their diplomacy skills and thirst for knowledge. That led to its members becoming migratory, never staying in one country once they had detailed its local history.”

Chomesuke’s eyes widened as understanding hit her. “And that means Lavi can’t marry you, since that would not only tie him down to one country, but also his heir.”

“You mean several countries,” Ellen gently corrected her friend. “Eileanprydain is a political union of four different countries, and adding Toscaterza would make it five. But yes, the heart of the matter remains the same.” She then walked over to Chomesuke and gave the other a significant look. “Ah, I forgot to mention another peculiarity about the House of Bookman.”

Chomesuke looked away. “Oh? And just what is it?”

Ellen felt an inappropriately wide grin slip onto her face. “Unlike most noble houses, it doesn’t mind its members marrying people of different social classes.” She turned her head and pretended not to notice the comb nearly falling from Chomesuke’s hands. “That has earned them derision from other nobles of course, who mostly view lower class women as suitable only for servants or mistresses, but the fact that they know practically everything about everyone else keeps it from progressing further. And it does mean they’ll never have to worry about the lack of suitable marriage partners like I do.”

The queen rubbed her chin as she looked up in contemplation. “Now that I remember, Lavi mentioned that the house of Bookman lived in the Kingdom of Noah before moving to the Black Order Republic. In fact,” her eyes slid to take in the sight of Chomesuke’s tomato-red face, “the head before Lavi’s grandfather had married an Akuma himself. That makes for a very _interesting_ precedent. Don’t you agree, Cho?”

Chomesuke brandished the silver comb as a not very impressive knife, growling out, “If you weren’t the Queen, I would be poking you with this _soooo_ hard right now!”

Ellen chuckled but held out her hands in a gesture of placation. “I’m sorry, Cho. I just couldn’t resist.”

Chomesuke harrumphed in embarrassment, but then placed the comb back where it belonged and looked down at her hands. “How long…?” she asked, not wanting to finish her question out loud.

Ellen understood, anyway. “For about a year,” she answered with a reassuring smile. “Lenalee and I happened to see you two… having a private moment on board Anita’s ship and decided not to bring it up. I’m only saying all of this now because you brought him as an option.” After a few seconds of silence from Chomesuke, she pressed on, “He really does like you, you know.”

Now Chomesuke looked at the young queen with quiet, disbelieving hope gleaming in her brown eyes. “He does?”

“Yes,” Ellen nodded. “I know he acts like a flirt with every attractive woman he sees, but what he shares with you… it’s clear how much he adores you.”

Chomesuke knew she probably looked quite ridiculous, standing in Ellen’s room while trying to hide her rather goofy grin with just her hands. But she didn’t care about that. When she started her relationship with Lavi, she told herself it wouldn’t last. He was a nobleman; she was a lady’s maid. A future where people like them could marry was fit only for fiction, not reality. Now, however…

“Still, I doubt his grandfather will approve of me.”

“He will, once it’s revealed that you’re responsible for Lavi’s calmer mood recently.”

Chomesuke let out a snort and shook her head as she rhetorically asked, “Weren’t we trying to find you someone to marry besides those your privy council recommend?”

Ellen sheepishly shrugged. “Honestly, I think we’ve pretty much exhausted that list.”

“You probably have a point,” Chomesuke sighed as she walked back to the clock. “The only other nobles I can think of are Lord Komui Lee, who won’t step down as Grand Pensionary; Lord Bak Chang, who is head over heels in love with Lady Lenalee; Lord Timothy Hearst, who is much too young for you; and Lord Yu Kanda, who-”

“I wouldn’t marry even if we were the last two people in the entire world,” Ellen bluntly stated as she went back to her cards.

“I think he’ll agree with you on that.”

Ellen huffed and gave Chomesuke a wry smile. “Probably the only thing we’ll ever agree on.”

Chomesuke chuckled, then brought her candle closer to the clock-face so she could read the current time. “It’s been about twenty-five minutes. Do you want me to start wrangling up the geese now?”

“If by that you mean my ladies-in-waiting, then yes,” Ellen confirmed while sending Chomesuke a mildly chiding glance.

Chomesuke just shrugged as she walked towards the set of doors. “Which ones do you need, again?”

“The Dresser and one of the Women of the Bedchamber. The First Lady of the Bedchamber is most likely going over details with the Lord Chamberlain, if she isn’t already asleep, so there’s no need to fetch her.”

“Alright. Which one of the Women of the Bedchamber do you want?”

Ellen serenely smiled. “Whichever one won’t keep pressing me to meet their unmarried male relatives?”

“I’m a lady’s maid, not a holy relic, Ellen. How about one who’ll press the least?”

“That will do. And can you bring in a chamber maid as well, to put out the fire? I’m planning on going to bed shortly after.”

Chomesuke nodded and open the right door. Then, for the benefit of any hidden busybody, turned and curtsied to her queen. “I will be right back, Your Majesty.”

“See you soon,” Ellen quietly replied just before Chomesuke crossed the threshold and closed the door behind her.

The young queen was now alone in the large room. She quickly finished her game of Brusquembille, but didn’t move to start another one. All the card games she knew were made to be played with other people. So she stood up, put her cards away, and began wandering around her bedroom.

_‘One minute by myself and I’m already bored,’_ she idly thought as she stopped in front of the fireplace. The young woman silently watched the yellow-orange flames contently feed on the logs below. Then a memory flickered unbidden into her mind: her twelve year-old self, sat in front of another fireplace, playing with a small yellow spaniel that frolicked upon the carpet like a swallow flitting through the sky.

_‘Oh, Timcanpy,’_ Ellen silently lamented as a fresh wave of grief crashed over her. Timcanpy had been a gift from Cross Marian to distract the then eleven year-old queen from her grief over Mana’s death. And it had worked; Ellen adored the little spaniel, taking him wherever she went and secretly feeding him whatever was on her plate. He had even accompanied her on all her travels abroad, endearing himself to all the women that laid eyes on the fluffy creature.

But one day, during a homecoming visit to Prydain, something horrible happened. Her traveling party was staying at a Duke’s country estate when the man in question suggested that everyone present, meaning all the nobles and the queen herself, go on a fox hunt. Ellen, seventeen at the time, wasn’t enamored with the idea. She was fine with hunting so long as she could eat whatever she caught at the end. But hunting animals like foxes or wolves always left a bad taste in her mouth. Why kill them if they were neither game nor bothering you? But it would be bad form if she turned down the invitation, so instead she agreed. Naturally, Tim went along with her.

At first everything went as expected. The hounds had been cast into a cluster of coverts and flushed out a fox hiding there. The fox dodged the sharp teeth of the hounds and managed to go to ground. But it was a temporary reprieve; the terrier man then released his charges to destroy the wild animal’s sanctuary. The nobles simply stood back and waited on horseback, letting the dogs and hunt staff do their job. And Ellen positioned herself at the very back, trying to feel content with enjoying the fresh air and exercise but still dreading the fox’s inevitable death.

Suddenly, just after the terriers were successful and the nobles rode up to take aim, Timcanpy darted away from Ellen’s side and moved in front of the fox hole. The whippers-in and other hunt staff tried to move him away so that the nobles could shoot their quarry, but the spaniel just evaded their hands and snapped at anything that tried to approach him or the fox.

Finally a young foreign viscount, tired of the strange dog’s holding up the hunt, took aim at the fox and fired.

But the bullet didn’t hit the fox. To Ellen’s overwhelming horror, it hit and killed Timcanpy.

Once the duke realized what had happened, he ordered the huntsman to get the dogs under control. The hunt, for all purposes, was over. A great relief for the fox, who prudently slipped away while all the humans were preoccupied with the dead dog that defended it.

Ellen broke away from her memories and moved to her oak vanity. She opened a small velvet-covered jewelry box and began searching through its contents for her quarry. Finally she pulled out a long red velvet ribbon with both its ends tied together. Hanging onto the ribbon were four rings.

These weren’t your average rings, however; they were mourning rings, created in memory of the deceased the living wanted to hold onto. The first ring wasn’t even Ellen’s; it was her father’s, a white enamel ring made in honor of the mother she never met. The second ring – black enamel with her father’s birth and death dates – was her own, but made for a child’s finger. The third ring was for Timcanpy, a tiny pearl set in the center – normally a choice reserved for children, but one Ellen thought was appropriate due to his innocent nature. The fourth and most recent ring was the most unique, for gold selectively covered a core comprised of a lock of blond hair. Howard’s hair.

She ran her fingers over the third ring, then sat down at her vanity and put on the necklace. It took some time, seeing as the only light she could rely on came from the fireplace, but eventually all four rings were proudly displayed upon the décolletage still uncovered by the linen sheets.

“There. Not too shabby, if I say so myself,” Ellen murmured in a pleased tone as she looked into the mirror. The First Lady might grow annoyed if she ever learned that her queen put on her jewelry by herself, but they were just mourning rings. Besides, she was in the privacy of her bedroom and planning to go to bed soon. So long as she slipped them off before anyone came in, who would ever know?

“Much more than that, in my opinion.”

Ellen gasped and turned around in her seat, trying to locate the owner of that voice. A very familiar voice. One that _shouldn’t_ be in her room at all, let alone this time of night.

Yet despite that glaring fact, there stood a man at the foot of her bed. He was tall with a toned, back-lit physique that flattered his clothing, rather the other way around. His long, dark wavy hair was tied at the back of his neck. And affixed to his face was a smirk far too casual for this situation.

“What are you doing here, Lord Mikk?” the queen demanded as she pulled her banyan tight around her body.

The man raised an eyebrow at her very reasonable question. “ _‘Lord Mikk?’_ I’m hurt, my dear girl, to hear you address me in that way,” he said as he moved closer to her. “We’re more than mere strangers, after all.”

Ellen shot him an unimpressed look in return. She stood up to address him, silently wishing she was at least a few inches taller so that she wouldn’t have to crane her neck back to look at him. “ _Lord Mikk_ , you are standing here in my _private_ bedroom without having been invited beforehand. And your address towards me is much too informal. Considering those factors, my using only your surname is the least of your concerns.”

“Oh, really?” He stopped right in front of her, golden eyes carrying an inappropriately amused light. “And just what are my ‘concerns’?”

“Well, let me start with the most obvious: I summon the Yeoman Guards to remove you from my room, which will obviously lead to imprisonment in the Tower and a very _thorough_ questioning.”

“Well, I do hope that won’t include torture. If His Majesty ever gets word of that, he will express his displeasure in an extremely _public_ manner…”

Ellen didn’t even blink at that subtle threat of a promise. “If it eases your mind, your high position among the Noah nobility as the Marquess of Joyd will protect you from that type of treatment. However,” she amended while taking a step forward and planting her hands on her hips, “that will not change the fact that you will be imprisoned. In opulent quarters, certainly, but still imprisoned. And whoever will end up interrogating you will not rest until they receive answers.”

Lord Mikk’s smirk widened. His eyes glanced down at the slip of skin uncovered by her recent movement before returning to her face. “Then they’ll develop insomnia, girl. My natural inclination is to do what I want, when I want. And I certainly won’t want to cooperate with some stuffy old man in a cell.”

But Ellen simply smirked back. “Then I would have no choice but to inform them of your greatest weakness.”

His gaze widened in surprise for a split-second, then returned to normal. “Really?”

“Yes, really.”

“And you just happen to know what it is?”

“In a matter of speaking, yes.”

His eyes narrowed and he took a step forward as well, greatly reducing the gap in between their bodies. “So why don’t you humor me and say it out loud?”

“Alright then,” Ellen calmly replied. “Your greatest weakness, Lord Mikk, is your reluctance in mingling with high society.”

Lord Mikk struggled and failed to keep the blatant confusion off his face. “What?”

“You dislike mixing with other nobility,” she reiterated with a graceful shrug of her shoulders. “Ever since you arrived as the ambassador for King Adam VII, you have been quite selective in attending the balls and other social events you have received invitations to. Not that said selectivity should label you as a hermit, but it has been enough for my nobles to take note of.”

Judging the re-appearance of his smirk, he had now fully recovered. “And how are you going to use this weakness, girl? Force me to attend every social gathering in Eileanprydain?”

“Oh no, that would most peculiar. But there are quite a few of my nobles who live for such things. I would just have to remind my privy council of your _aversion_ during their search for your interrogator.” Her smirk grew as his began to wane. “In fact, there is one earl I know of who would be the perfect candidate. He is well-connected via both his schoolmates and his adult children, which means that he attends a vast number of balls and other such gatherings held annually across both Eileanprydain and Toscaterza. And he is more than happy to share any procured gossip or whatnot with anyone in the same room as him. Well, anyone who is willing to listen.”

Lord Mikk put up a calm façade, but she could see the growing trepidation in his eyes. It was time to drive her point home. “Parliament would certainly approve of the earl taking up the post of interrogator, since he is a member of the Gamoround party. And the privy council will approve due to his title and standing.” Now Ellen began to tap her chin and stare up at the ceiling in a tableau of deep thought. “Of course, the man in question might consider my request to talk with you before questioning unorthodox for the circumstances; but I have a feeling he will find such an opportunity to share with a... _captive audience_ too good to resist.”

“You’re bluffing,” he challenged, yet took a step back from her.

She steadily stared back at him. “ _Try me_ , Lord Mikk.”

They held eye contact for what felt to be an extremely long stretch of time. The fire, happily ignorant to the showdown, continued to warm one side of their bodies as they stood still.

Finally, Lord Mikk shook his head. “You’re not playing fair here, girl,” he complained in a half-wary, half-amused tone.

Ellen’s answering smile was serene on the surface, slightly smug and cheeky underneath. “I am a queen, good sir. There are many times where I must be firm. This is one of them. However, that specific scenario can be avoided; you will simply have to leave right now.”

But instead of taking that offer, as she expected, he chuckled and took a step forward. His earlier apprehension was now slowly draining from his face. “Are you sure about that, girl?”

Ellen’s expression took on a bemused tint. “Quite, Lord Mikk. Now is not the time to reignite hostilities between our peoples. So despite your bold actions this night, I will overlook all of them if you walk out of the main doorway, leave the palace and return to your lodgings.”

His answering smirk was wicked. “Whoever said I used the _main doors_?”

At first, she just looked at him with a raised eyebrow over that absurd question. Of course he used the main doors. How else could-

Wait.

Oh no.

_‘But that- Impossible- He shouldn’t have-!’_

Ellen’s lavender eyes grew wide with shock and disbelief, then she bolted around the noble and ran to the corner of her room in-between the fireplace and main doors. In front of her was a tapestry hanging on the pine wainscoting. Normally it was long enough for its golden fringe to barely brush the floor, wide enough to overcome the width of the raised panel underneath, and young enough that the image woven, the Ellis columbine, was still beautifully presented to the viewer.

Unfortunately, Ellen couldn’t exactly appreciate the tapestry right now. Not when a good portion of it seemed to just disappear into the wall. She slowly moved forward and to the side, her heart increasing in tempo as she observed how there now was a significant slice of darkness separating the wall and the wood board holding the tapestry up. Finally she reached out and gripped the board with one hand while sliding the other towards the darkness. It was a futile gesture, sure, but she had to do it to confirm that Lord Mikk had actually stumbled upon one of her family’s secrets.

And he undeniably did, for her exploring hand veered into an abyss instead of more wall.

She whipped her head around to face Lord Mikk, now standing behind her. “How did you-”

“How did I find your set of secret passages?” he chuckled, then moved to replicate their previous position in front of the fire. “A browsing of the palace library before my meeting with your Prime Minister earlier today led me to a certain corner where one bookshelf didn’t perfectly match the others…but was perfect at disguising the door behind it.”

Ellen grit her teeth to keep the swear words she dearly wanted to use from flying out her mouth. “And you just _happened_ to come across it?” she asked with audible doubt in her voice.

Lord Mikk wasn’t bothered by her tone, though. In fact the audacious man took a hold of her left hand and brought it to his lips. The young queen failed to stop the thrill running down her spine once she felt the warmth of his lips upon the back of it. “I know it sounds quite far-fetched, but it truly was by chance. Though it certainly does explain how you keep getting ‘lost’ and causing your attendants to run about like headless chickens.”

She rolled her eyes in response. “Really, Lord Mikk. An ambassador such as yourself shouldn’t be comparing my people to poultry.”

“No, but is apt. And I know you agree with me.”

“Oh, really?” she questioned with a calm expression, the same one she used while playing cards with her courtiers, pressed into place. “How?”

Lord Mikk, still holding her hand, smirked and said, “Don’t be coy, girl. I saw that smile you tried to hide.”

Now she turned her face to the side and softly huffed. “Then I must gently correct you. That smile, as you call it, wasn’t a show of approval for your turn of phrase. It was an involuntary reaction, brought on by my disbelief over your justification over your actions this night.”

“You make it sound that I’ve done something bad.”

She could help but roll her eyes. “Like discovering that someone else knows how to skulk about my palace without being detected is something to be happy over.”

Ellen’s eyes slid closed as she heard his responding chuckle, showing that he wasn’t offended by her last retort. Not that she expected it to have. The Noah nobleman, unlike other members of his social rank, could handle tart comments delivered by women with grace. Granted, there were certain topics best left alone whenever she conversed with him. But again, his list was tiny compared to other noble’s.

_‘It really is nice to talk with an aristocrat with thick skin for once,’_ she thought with a slight smile.

But that smile soon slipped off her face once she felt something warm grip her chin and realign her head to face forward. Surprised, her eyes fluttered open to see Lord Mikk looking straight at her.

“Well, I consider it to be a great boon,” he all but purred. “Given that our last meeting ended _far_ too soon.”

Ellen’s cheeks burned at his words and her heart skipped a beat as his words brought up distracting memories from just hours ago. “Lord Mikk,” she breathed out while trying to remove his hand from her face, “this is not the place to bring that up.”

He slowly began to maneuver her away from the secret passage. Soon Ellen’s back and left hand met the wall as he pressed his body against hers. “Why ever not? We’re all alone, the fireplace is giving the room a cozy atmosphere, and your current attire…” His hand slid from her jaw to cradle the back of her head, fingers tangled within her braid despite it still being damp. His head then dipped down to teasingly brush his lips against hers as he sensually said, “It just _beckons_ me to help you out of it.”

Ellen’s breath hitched at hearing that blatant statement. It also didn’t help that he followed it up by a firm yet slow thrust of his still-clothed hips, allowing her to feel the evidence of his desire.

The queen tried to turn her face from those piercing eyes studying the expressions triggered by his blasted thrusting. Alas, the grip he maintained at the back or her neck kept her head stationary, so the most she could do was flicker her gaze away from his.

Soon she felt Lord Mikk shift his hips away, giving her an opportunity to try to gather her scattered thoughts and launch a counter-offensive. Said-opportunity, however, was cut short by a knee wedging its way between her thighs and traveling all the way north.

“Mi-mikk!” she nearly moaned as his wicked knee repeated his hip’s earlier actions. But now there were sparks flashing in her lower belly, caused by the bunched up linen rubbing against the most sensitive part of her body. “Y-you must c-cease this at o-once!”

Lord Mikk chuckled and pressed a kiss against her burning cheek. “Are you sure, girl? You seem to be enjoying yourself,” he teased as his eyes flickered down her body.

He was right, in a way. Her own hips began to grind down shortly after his knee made contact, ignoring her shocked consternation in favor of chasing those lovely sparks. It was just like earlier, when they-

_‘No! I can’t let myself be distracted!’_ Ellen scolded herself. She then placed her hands onto his shoulders and pushed against them. It failed to get them to completely separate, but she did manage to make his knee cease its provocative movements. A small part of her was quite disappointed by how that led the sparks to slowly die, but she harshly brushed it aside to focus on the matter at hand.

“I am expecting a group of noblewomen arriving soon to help me prepare for bed, Lord Mikk,” she explained to the questioning nobleman, “and the last thing I need tonight is to explain to them why I am alone with a man who is certainly not my husband.”

“And how is that a problem? You’re a widow, not a maiden.”

Ellen’s lavender eyes transformed into jagged amethysts as she scowled. “Don’t be obtuse,” she snapped at him. “Yes, widows have greater freedom compared to their unmarried counterparts when it comes to making the beast with two backs. But I’m not an average well-off widow. I’m a _queen_ ruling over several lands. I can’t live out the rest of my life with nothing but lovers to warm my bed. I need to re-marry and beget a legal heir.”

Lord Mikk raised an eyebrow and scoffed. “That _requirement_ doesn’t stop other rulers from enjoying themselves.”

Now her eyes cast a bitter glance to the floor. “You mean the _male_ rulers. They could have a veritable harem of mistresses alongside their wife, or father multiple illegitimate children and simply be judged by their peers as virile. But if a _female_ ruler is so much as _implied_ to be intimate with just one man, even if her husband is deceased at the time... or bear a child whose parentage is less than completely certain…”

She didn’t need to finish that last statement. Both of them knew how others would react. How their responses would be much more vulgar, damaging and hurtful due to her sex rather than her purported actions.

For a few scant seconds nothing was said. The only sounds emitted came from the fireplace as wood crackled while consumed by the flames. Then Ellen heard Lord Mikk release a sigh before she felt him kiss her forehead. And it was such a warm kiss, too; conveying a sense of tenderness that seemed contrary to his normal behavior.

“Now, now, Ellen. There’s no need to cry.”

It took a moment of blinking for her to realize that he was talking about the clear liquid pearls forming in the corners of her eyes. His hand left her hair to brush away her tears, as warm as his kiss and as gentle as his soothing words. Once it accomplished its mission, his hand chose to rest against her cheek instead of returning to its former post.

She sighed and covered his hand with one of her own. “I’m sorry, Lord Mikk. I don’t know what came over me just now,” she confessed with a soft sigh of frustration. Her eyes shuttered close to curtail future tears – and to keep her feelings in check.

_'Stop acting pathetic, Ellen. You are a Queen, not some blubbering fool. Feeling anger over the stark fact that men can weather sex scandals better than women is a waste of time.’_

_'Your people must always be placed over your pride. If not...’_

But Ellen was distracted from her mental scolding by another kiss from Lord Mikk, this time on her lips. It didn’t linger, for seduction wasn’t its current aim. Still there was enough of his charm conveyed through it that a slight thrill ran down her spine and a small part of her wanted to sigh in rapture.

She blinked and looked up, a confused and questioning expression upon her face as she gazed into his. “Why did you kiss me?”

Lord Mikk let out a thoughtful hum. “For two reasons: first, because I wanted to,” he cheekily stated with a smirk.

Slightly irritated but also amused, Ellen asked, “And what is your second one?”

Now his eyes softened. “Because defeat is the last emotion that belongs on your face.” He lowered his head to let their foreheads touch, never letting their gazes break. “I’ve known you for years, girl. You’re not one to let adversaries break you.” His thumb began to rub soothing circles on her cheek. “Instead you do what you think is right, all for those who depend on you.”

After a moment of stunned surprise, the young queen felt a smile twitch across her face. “I didn’t realize you had such a keen sense of observation.”

Lord Mikk smirked and gave her another kiss. This one was short but sweet, lasting long enough for her lower belly to quiver in anticipation of what might come. “It’s a relatively new skill, to be fair. But I’m more than happy to exercise it on you, girl.”

Ellen couldn’t help but laugh. “So that’s your final weapon for getting into my skirts?” she teased the man still touching her, playing along despite the situation. “To ply me with sweet nothings whispered into my ears?”

“Is that what you want?”

“I thought you knew me better than that, Lord Mikk.”

His grin grew sinfully wide and caused her heart to flutter. “Oh, I do,” he purred out, removing the hand on her face and placed it on her shoulder. Then he slowly glided the appendage down to her waist in a sensual caress, raising goose bumps in its wake. “You’re a woman of action, not words. Otherwise you wouldn’t have stepped foot on the battlefield all those months ago.”

Ellen began to toy with the top edge of his waistcoat with her left hand, silently enjoying how the silk felt under her fingertips, as her right stayed put on his shoulder. “You’re referring to my visiting my troops to lift morale, I assume?”

“Oh, you did more than that,” Lord Mikk countered. His hand now rested on her hip, above the thigh trapped between his legs. The arm around her waist also withdrew so that his other hand could copy the position of its brother. “There are several accounts, from both our soldiers and spies, about you fighting side-by-side with your soldiers and allies without any regard for your own life.”

“I couldn’t have asked those men to die fighting for my right to rule without sharing the burden,” she nonchalantly justified her actions to the nobleman. The words themselves were well-worn, having been used time after time when frantic allied officers tried to persuade her to leave the fighting to the men. But much to their dismay, she never strayed far from the war front. Especially not after Howard’s death.

“Why bring this up now, Mikk?” Ellen questioned, her head tilted to one side as she looked at him.

“To distract you, of course.”

Ellen’s eyes widened in shock.

“Wha- mmph!”

Just as Lord Mikk revealed the conversation’s purpose, he moved his hands to grip her thighs and quickly maneuvered their bodies so that her legs were now wrapped around his hips. At the same time he took advantage of her verbal outburst to seal his mouth to hers. In fact he went even further, inserting his tongue into her warm and wet mouth. She managed not to keen as that flexible muscle coaxed her own into a sinful yet intoxicating dance, but she did whimper once he started grinding against her hips.

“Th-that was a dirty trick,” Ellen gasped after he moved his mouth away just enough for her to speak.

“Well, it was certainly effective,” he answered back with a sensual chuckle. Then he started to press kisses along her jaw and long neck, pulling at the ribbon holding her mourning rings until it came undone in his hand. Now with more exposed skin available, Lord Mikk’s kisses were joined by light sucks and lewd licks targeted narrowly at sensitive spots.

The young queen sighed in pleasure and tilted her head back as one kiss was planted right on her pulse point. Her sense of reason started to slip away, and the space between her legs started to feel very damp…

But then something happened. What could only be described as the chiming of bells softly float through the room.

“What the hell is that?” an utterly baffled Lord Mikk questioned, pausing in his attempt at further uncovering her legs.

Ellen nearly swore, then frantically looked around to find the source of the chimes. Just as she suspected, it was coming from the shell-shaped wall decoration above her head.

_‘Of all the bloody times for it to be ringing…’_

She grabbed his face with both hands and made him face her straight on. “Lord Mikk,” she said in a commanding tone, “put me down _now_!”

Seeing that Ellen was completely serious, Lord Mikk sighed and helped her unwrap her legs from his hips. Once her feet were firmly on the floor, she took a hold of his right arm and started dragging him towards the secret passage’s door.

“Hey, what-?!” Mikk shouted as Ellen shoved him inside and closed the door, nearly trapping the tapestry in the process.

“Shh! Those bell chimes mean that someone’s coming. Most likely the ladies-in-waiting I warned you about! If you make a sound while they’re in my room, you’ll be found out and then everything will go wrong!”

She took in a deep breath to try and calm her nerves. “Tyki… please keep quiet. At least until they all leave again. _Please_.”

A few seconds past before he gave out a muffled sigh and said, “Alright, Ellen.”

Ellen smiled with relief and whispered a sincere “Thank you.” She walked away from the secret door, now undetectable due to the tapestry correctly covering it, and moved to a white painted fortepiano that once belonged to her long deceased uncle Nea. She pulled out the stool and began searching it hidden compartment for sheet music.

_‘They’re probably still too far away to have heard anything,’_ she thought as she found the specific song she was looking for. She then opened the lid, sat down, lifted the fallboard that protected the keys and arranged the sheets against the music rack. _‘Still, I can’t be too careful. Besides, this piece has always had a calming effect…’_

Finally she raised her hands and started to play. Musical notes soon filled the air, their gleeful meandering and hopping about reminding her of a stumbling but energetic fawn. She could picture the adorable creature in her mind: desperately trying to keep up with its mother, yet still getting distracted by the wonders of the forest it now called home.

She was half-way through the _balletto_ when a short series of knocks came from the other side of the front doors. “Your majesty,” Chomesuke announced, “your ladies-in-waiting are here to help you get dressed for bed.”

Ellen turned around and placed her hands on her lap. “Let them in, De Yopan.”

The doors opened and in came the ladies-in-waiting, Chomesuke and a young chamber maid. Each woman greeted their queen with curtsies – the aristocrats delivering additional verbal banalities – and commenced with their respective duties. The chamber maid put out the fire and tidied up the room, Chomesuke handed Ellen’s shift over to the Woman of the Bedchamber, and the two noblewomen gossiped as they helped the queen change into her shift before she got into bed.

After dismissing her ladies-in-waiting and the chamber maid, Ellen looked at Chomesuke and said, “Could you leave me a candle before you retire, Cho? I want to do a bit of light reading before I go to sleep.” She then slipped out a slim novel from the left bedside table’s drawer to support her request.

“Alright,” the maid whispered as she placed the candle next to the queen, “but don’t stay up too late. You have the levée first thing in the morning. And there are only so many ways the First Lady of the Bedchamber can passively express her disapproval of your habits before she falls down dead from apoplexy.”

Ellen bit her lip and tried not to laugh. “I’ll keep that in mind. Good night, Chomesuke.”

Expertly balancing the used linen sheets and a lit flame, Chomesuke smiled and said, “Good night, Ellen.” Then she exited the royal bedroom to her own close by.

Ellen locked the doors with a special mechanism right above the table supporting her light source, then opened her book and started to read. But once she heard the hidden bells signal that her ladies-in-waiting were far enough from her room, she jumped out of bed and quickly but quietly ran over to the secret passage. She opened the door and found him leaning on the wall with his arms crossed, his previous look of boredom melting away once the light from her candle entered the dark space.

“Thanks again for not giving yourself away,” she told him as he left the wall and stood in front of her.

“Well, the chatter from your ladies-in-waiting helped,” he confessed before removing his tricorne hat to brush his bangs from his face. “Nothing can put one to sleep faster than the inane yapping of bottle-headed noblewomen. Why are they a part of your court, anyway?”

“Politics,” she answered, vaguely recalling that Chomesuke asked a similar question. “But that is neither here nor there. What happened tonight was incredibly reckless. Not only because we nearly got caught. If we had continued on…”

_‘We would have crossed the line. The one I created after that kiss you gave me days after_ _the end of Howard’s mourning period.’_

Ellen sighed and looked down at the ground. She can’t let her weakness for Tyki’s charms, what had started her initial correspondence with the Noah nobleman when she was sixteen, get the better of her this time. “You should go now, Tyki. Before…”

_'Before I beg you to fully take me.’_

She didn’t see Tyki’s immediate reaction to her words. But she was very much aware of what he did after that: he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into a crushing embrace. It was only sheer dumb luck that Ellen hadn’t dropped the candle or set their clothes on fire.

“Tyki-” she tried to scold him for his sudden action, but he stopped her with one finger pressed against her lips. The man then grasped her chin and made her lock gazes with him. She felt her breath hitch as she took in the raw, almost vulnerable look on his face.

_‘Ah, how unfair of you,’_ Ellen helplessly thought. _‘You know I can’t resist it when you’re being fully sincere with me.’_

And despite common sense and experience telling her not to reignite the embers, she wrapped the arm not preoccupied with a candle around his neck and pulled him down for a kiss.

\- x -

Ellen sighed as she was carefully laid out on the spot of the floor near her bed. Her new shift had been removed during their stumbling – the candle was safely placed on the table – and left strewn on top of a chair, meaning that her nudity was now on full display for Tyki’s roving eyes. She felt goose bumps start to rise across her skin, but was unsure if they were caused by the room’s cool air or his free hand sensually roaming her person.

Tyki himself had been divested of his coat, waistcoat and shirt during the same wandering of hands that had gotten Ellen’s shift. The latter two were sloppily left in heaps of fabric, while his coat thoughtfully protected her back from the floor. Her eyes were drawn to his bare chest, sculpted in a manner that would have earned the approval of the old masters, before they bashfully traveled down to rest on his breeches. And she blushed at what she saw: how her legs were wantonly splayed wide, offering up her Eve’s custom house; how the top of his thighs pressed into the backs of hers; and how underneath his skin-tight breeches there lay his-

She gasped when Tyki’s hand enclosed around her left breast. “Like what you see?” he chuckled while fingers tweaked its nipple into a perky pink peak. Mission accomplished, he then switched hands to tend to the other one.

Ellen pouted at his teasing before a naughty idea came to mind. She raised both her hands and laid them upon his torso to do a bit of exploring. His muscles flexed under her touch, particularly the spots she lightly scratched. And she felt quite pleased at hearing _him_ gasp when she paid exactly the same type of attention to his nipples that he paid to hers. “Yes, I do,” she demurred with a slight smirk. “However, the time for merely looking has past. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Tyki’s answering grin was salacious. “You’re absolutely right.” He lowered himself down enough to give her a burning kiss. Ellen moaned in appreciation as he continued to fondle her breast despite his hand being trapped in between them. She decided to reciprocate by wrapping her legs around his hips – this time without any prodding from him – thus bringing their intimate parts ever so closer. Her hands also caressed his broad shoulders and back, earning her some lovely groans that went straight to her lower belly.

After a few moments of bliss he broke away, leaving a thin string of saliva as evidence of their mouth-to-mouth contact. Tyki licked Ellen’s lips and chuckled at the subsequent mewl. He slowly made his way down her body, breaking her legs’ grip but making it up by leaving heated kisses in his wake, until he stopped in front of her private parts.

“It appears that your towel missed a spot, girl. You’re quite… wet down here,” he commented with a thoughtful hum, languidly rubbing the inner corner of her right thigh with his thumb.

Ellen strained her neck trying in vain to see his expression, and her heart stepped up its rhythm due to his touches. “Actually it’s a sign of _your_ handiwork.”

Unseen by the young woman, Tyki’s lips stretched out in a wide smirk after he heard her retort. “Is that so?” His thumb retreated from her thigh, then slowly made it’s way to…

Ellen’s eyes grew wide as she threw back her head and nearly shouted with pleasure. Choked back whimpers were what actually left her mouth, but they grew higher in pitch as Tyki seductively rubbed the pink nub below her pubic hair.

“Since I did cause it,” he purred out with tangible lust coating his voice, “then it is only proper for me to resolve it. Right, girl?”

“I- wha- oh, God-!”

A proper answer was hard to get out of the young woman at the moment. The finger he inserted at the same time wasn’t helping, either.

He slowly rubbed her silky inner walls, letting her get re-acquainted with that long digit. Another finger slipped in and helped to stretch her walls wider. Next a third one joined in. After he gave her some to time to adjust to having three fingers in at once, Tyki began to thrust them in and out of her. They soon found her most sensitive spot and started abusing it, working in tandem with the molestation of her clitoris.

Ellen’s hips wiggled with amorous impatience, trying to feed the sparks frantically dancing inside her. All the attention he was paying to her lower half was driving her mad with lust. But it was not enough.

“Tyki,” she moaned, one hand reaching out to him while the other gripped the coat underneath them. It weakly gripped his hand, causing him to pause in his actions and look at her with a raised eyebrow. “M-more.”

He smirked and nipped her inner right thigh, delighting in the whine he earned for it. “That can be easily granted, girl. My only regret is that I only have one pair of hands and my mouth for the task.”

But Ellen shook her head and panted out, “That’s not what I meant. I need more than your fingers. More than your mouth.”

Tyki completely stilled and stared at her with wide eyes. “You mean…?”

She swallowed, then nodded in confirmation.

Shock briefly reigned his emotions before it was overthrown by desire and pleasure. With a lewd growl he withdrew his now drenched hand and wrapped his arms around her body. She let out a surprised squeak as she found themselves changing positions: Tyki was now sitting up with his legs stretched out, while Ellen was straddling his lap. But then she moaned in pleasure as she felt his cock, once again straining the front of his breeches, press against her wet core.

Tyki groaned as he felt her grind into his lap. “Easy there,” he warned the aroused queen. “Any faster and this might end prematurely. Can you wait a few seconds for me, girl? I need to grab something from my coat.”

He chuckled at her responding whine of frustration, then rubbed her back in a soothing manner and started searching his coat pockets. A huff of triumph left his lips when his hand grasped its quarry.

Ellen, curiosity barely overriding lust, removed her head from where it nestled in the crook of his neck to see just what Tyki brought out of his pocket. Then her eyes grew wide once she recognized what it was: a sheath made out of sheep intestine. She turned back to him, her silent question clearly written on her face. He gave her a short kiss and said, “I thought you would appreciate it, on the slim chance that we would actually get this far.”

Feeling very touched, she cradled the sides of his face in her hands and brought him into a longer kiss with swirling tongues. “Thank you, Tyki,” she whispered when she broke it.

“Don’t thank me just yet,” he grinned while idly twirling the sheath in the air. “I still need to put in on.”

Ellen gave a seductive look in turn. “Then allow me to help,” she cooed as her hands went to his breeches. They quickly worked at unfastening the buttons keeping the fly closed, and paused only when the prize slipped up and out of the opening she made.

She couldn’t help but gently wrap one of her hands around the protruding organ, discovering how it seemed to pulse and burn against her skin. Tyki made no move to stop her. On the contrary, he covered the hand around his silent flute with his own and encouraged it to tighten its grip and move up and down. This movement seemed to not only cause his cock to grow harder, it even started to leak clear liquid.

Soon she was doing it all by herself, quietly reveling in the hisses and groans of pleasure she was getting out of him.

_‘Howard certainly wouldn’t have let me do this,’_ an unkind but correct voice whispered from the back of her mind. _‘He would have labeled this as too vulgar for any woman of good reputation to attempt, let alone a queen.’_

Ellen was brought back to the present when Tyki finally removed her hand to put on the sheath. Once it was secured, he looked at her and asked, “Do you still want to?”

She just nodded with confidence, then moved to position herself over his prick. He placed a hand on the small of his back, gazing at her with such heat in his eyes that she nearly thought she might catch fire. Finally, after gripping Tyki’s cock once again, she slowly lowered her hips and guided the organ inside her welcoming walls.

She felt how his girth stretched her further than all three of his fingers, and had to stifle the whimper creeping out her mouth as she descended further. Finally her core fully engulfed his cock, leaving the two connected in the most intimate manner.

Tyki hissed as he felt her tightness threaten to strangle his shaft in the most borderline pleasurable/painful way possible. He rested both hands on the sides of her hips, thumbs rubbing soothing circles in an effort to get her to relax.

Ellen panted and slightly winced. Because it had been over a year since she truly coupled with a man, her inner walls felt a strain trying to accommodate its new occupant. But as she tried to relax; as Tyki added on kisses to her left shoulder; as time simply passed; that strain grew weaker and weaker until it was barely there, now only a slight indicator of the young woman’s situation.

“Sorry about that,” she sheepishly apologized, resting her hands on his shoulders.

He softly laughed and kissed her cheek. “I’ve had worse,” he reassured her. Then he leaned forward and caught her lips with his own.

The young woman happily sighed, opened her mouth into the kiss and let her tongue slip out to persuade his for a dance. She received a fast acceptance, and soon the two of them were moaning and groaning with arousal, trying to pull the other closer so that they could achieve full-on contact.

Ellen’s hips twitched as all of this went on. This twitching soon became rocking against his hips, prompting them to start slowly thrusting up. But it was not long before both of them grew impatient with that pace.

Tyki let out a snarl of lust as he lifted her hips, carefully keeping his cock enveloped, and then sharply dropped them down. This had all been perfectly timed to a hard thrust, hitting her sensitive spot straight on and causing her back to arch in pure delight.

But that didn’t mean that she let herself be passive in this. Her hips began to rotate as she slid down his cock, trying to make it press against every single hidden crevice within her. She experimented with squeezing her inner muscles and quickly established a pattern that would get his hips to thrust even harder. Her nails left long scratches on his back to let him know which techniques pleased her the most. She left as many love bites as she could leave on the skin of his neck and chest…

They both communicated verbally. Moans or groans, whimpers or mewls, hisses or hums. Words of encouragement, teasing taunts, breathy confirmation…

And through their eyes they offered more profound concepts. Emotions that could never be fully articulated with their mouths – not unless the political winds change for the better – were laid bare for the other to take in.

Fondness, adoration… love.

It couldn’t last forever. Not with the frantic rhythm they set to match their soaring heartbeats. But when Ellen’s end finally came, it was oh so glorious. The sparks transformed into potent fireworks that exploded with great force, seemingly effecting every inch of her body. She would have let out a loud shout signaling her ecstasy had not Tyki, closely watching for signs of her impending orgasm, made her moan it into his mouth. He soon reached the same state as well, ejaculating while her core quivered and pulsed around him.

Ellen slumped against him, tired and sated in equal measure. She was in no condition to fight off sleep, so it came for her. The last thing she was aware of, before unconsciousness fully claimed her, was a tender kiss on her head and whispered words of affection.

\- x -

When Ellen woke up the next morning, tucked into bed and wearing her shift once again, she found that Tyki had left her a puzzling message.

Three of her mourning rings, which she had completely forgotten about, were left on the closest bedside table corner to where she laid. The ribbon connecting them was tied into a neat bow.

The fourth mourning ring, however, was left right next to the waxy remains of last night’s candle. What’s more, it had been hidden by one of her miniatures, the painting’s old place among its peers conspicuous by the empty space.

Both ring and miniature were Howard’s.

**\- xXx -**

**This one has been an interesting story to write, folks. I have been lifting a lot of details straight from the 18 th century (specifically Britain), but I’ve also went and remixed other information to fit this AU (and because I like to make things harder for myself). Therefore, the cultural notes section will be split into two parts: world building notes, and cultural notes. Onward, ho!**

**Cultural Notes:**

**Favourite (favorite) – A person who enjoys the favor of a reigning monarch. The actual nature of their relationship to the monarch varied on an individual basis. Some were just good friends of the monarch; others were their ruler’s lover. What was consistent, however, was that the other courtiers hated them. Especially if said favorite came from a lower social class. The favorite system was declining during the 18 th century, as new ways of accumulating political power without completely relying on royal favor became available.**

**Ellen’s bathing routine – Based on what I could find on the Internet about 18 th bathing. Specifically, I used a news article that described how Caroline of Ansbach, Queen of Great Britain and King George II’s wife, would take a bath.**

**First Lady of the Bedchamber – The highest position of the Ladies of the Bedchamber. Normally only required for ceremonial occasions, but I imagine that this First Lady is fussy enough to want to regularly be by Ellen’s side due to the latter’s age. If the monarch was female, then the First Lady would also be the Groom of the Stoles (formally the Groom of the Stools, who headed the bedchamber staff and kept the sovereign’s stoles/official robes).**

**Women of the Bedchamber – Rank of noblewomen who served the Queen as ladies-in-waiting. They helped her bathe, get dressed, etc. Ranked below the Ladies of the Bedchamber and would defer to them, but didn’t take orders from them back in the 18 th century.**

**Dresser – The person who actually dressed the Queen. There’s no Wikipedia page for this position, but it is mentioned in Lucy Worsley’s documentary series _If Walls Could Talk – The History of the Home._**

**Lady’s maid – A personal attendant who waits on her mistress. Her position was higher compared to other servants in the servant’s hall. She was in charge of helping her mistress with her appearance, and would also draw her mistress’s bath and brought her breakfast in her room.**

**Privy council – Formal group of royal advisors. A small committee formed from this body gained greater authority in the 18 th century, meeting without the monarch and telling the royal afterwards.**

**Mistress of the Robes – The noblewoman in charge of the Queen’s stoles. This office would often be merged with that of the First Lady of the Bedchamber during the 18 th century.**

**Lord Chamberlain of the Household – The most senior position of the Royal Household. Chosen by the monarch, supervises those who advise said monarch, organizes official ceremonies, etc.**

**Muffin-wallopers – Scandal-loving women.**

**Pudding-headed fellows – Total idiots.**

**Bill of Rights – Basically the English Bill of Rights. After James was overthrown by William and Mary in the Glorious Revolution (which really was a government-approved coup), Parliament presented the two with this document they had to accept to get the English throne.**

**Licensing Act – Based on the Licensing of the Press Act of 1662, which was basically press censorship. According to Wikipedia, the House of Commons (the lower house of Parliament) decided not to renew it which eventually led to the Copyright Act of 1710. However, in Lucy Worsley’s _The First Georgians: The German Kings Who Made Britain,_ one man claims that Parliament just forgot to schedule the matter in. Which one do you believe?**

**The Campbell king who lost his head – Basically Charles I. Considered by many to be the worst English king since the Middle Ages (though I personally think George IV could give him a run for his money), he ended up abusing his powers, caused the English Civil Wars, tried by Parliament for _treason,_ and finally beheaded. But he did have great taste in art (just like George IV, actually...). The Campbell king Ellen mentions had a pretty similar track record to Charles I, though I haven’t decided if he was pig-headed enough to start a civil war over not getting his way.**

**MPs – Members of Parliament.**

**Banyan – A loose, T-shaped or kimono-like garment worn by European men and women in the late 17 th and 18th century. Women would wear it as a dressing gown or a nightgown over undergarments, depending on the time of day. Made from cotton, linen or silk. Now used in India to refer to a vest.**

**Lobcocks – Literally means “Large, relaxed penises”. Dull, inanimate fellows.**

**Brusquembille – An 18 th century French card game. It’s a trick-and-draw game (like Spades) and needs 2-5 players and 32 cards to play. The number of players dictate how the game will be played so that the cards can be divided among them. I chose this game mainly due to the fact that poker didn’t exist back then. Plus Brusquembille allows side payments, in which all players put an agreed amount of chips into a pot before each deal to be given to that deal’s winner. If you’re wondering how to play it, Wikipedia has an article which lists the basic rules of the game.**

**18 th century prison life – It truly did suck back then. Jailers squeezed prisoners for every little penny they could via fees, the sanitary conditions in cells were abysmal, and the jails themselves were practically universities for crime. Also, there was no separating prisoners; instead everyone was kept in one common room, regardless of what crime they committed. Even men and women… Yeah, like that last one isn’t gonna cause problems… For more details, check out Extra Credit’s Extra History series about how London got a police force – _Policing London_ – on YouTube.**

**POWs on prison ships – Honestly, I cheated a little with this one, since it comes from how American POWs were treated during the American Revolutionary War (1775-1783). But I didn’t find anything else about early 18 th century POWs than what I included in this plot bunny; plus this was just too sensational (in a negative way) to pass up on.**

**Grand Pensionary – The second highest political position in the Dutch Republic. Officially just a civil servant, they ran the country in absence of a stadtholder (the national leader).**

**The fox hunt – Oh, this part hurt to write. In the 18 th century, fox hunts were (obviously) not only legal in Great Britain, they were a favorite pastime for nobles and gentry. The details varied depending on the country or region, but the main goal was the same… I don’t want to write any more about this here. There’s a page on Wikipedia, if you want to look at it. I recommend keeping another tab of something heart-warming on your browser while you do this.**

**Mourning rings – A type of mourning jewelry. While most people are more familiar with Victorian mourning jewelry, the Georgians wore them as well. All styles described were used in the 18 th century.**

**Yeoman Guards – Based on the Yeomen of the Guard who protect Queen Elizabeth II. These guys have been protecting the English monarch since their founding in 1485 by King Henry VII. Different from the Beef-eaters who guard the Tower of London.**

**Wainscoting (paneling) – A style of paneling applied to inner walls of a room. The name comes from the historical fact that riven (split) oak boards were originally used. In the 18 th century, however, two changes occurred. First, people switched from oak to softwoods like pine and spruce. And second, the style changed from floor-to-ceiling coverage to just being applied to the lower half of the wall. For more details, check out the Wikipage for panelling.**

**Fortepiano – Early piano. Normally used to describe those made towards the end of the 18 th century, but can be used for those made as early as 1700.**

**What Ellen is playing – The first composition written specifically for the piano: Sonata Op. 1 no. 1, by Italian Baroque composer Lodovico Giustini. You can find it on YouTube.**

**Balletto – Genre of light vocal compositions from the late 16 th – early 17th century.**

**Levée – The morning reception of a monarch, which did involve the court nobles either watching or helping the royal get dressed. While it had been around in a small way since the days of Holy Roman Emperor Charlemange, it was raised to decadent new heights by Louis XIV. It was brought to England by King Charles II, where it continued until 1939.**

**Bottle-headed – Void of wit.**

**Eve’s custom house – A woman’s private parts.**

**Sheath (condoms in the 18 th century) – Yes, they could be made out of sheep intestine. Linen was also used, but fell out of favor because they weren’t as good. They were secured with ribbons around the base.**

**Silent flute – Cock.**

**World Building Notes:**

**St. Thomas’ Palace – A combo of St. James Palace and Hampton Court, two palaces used by both the Stuarts and the Hanoverian royals in the 18 th century.**

**The Prydish Isles – Basically this AU’s version of the British Isles. The name comes from the Welsh word for ‘Britain’ (Prydain).**

**Eileanprydain – This AU’s version of Great Britain. Great Britain came into existence after the Act of Union of 1707, combining the Kingdom of Scotland with England and Wales. But unlike in the 18 th century, this one includes AU!Ireland in the entity. The name comes from combining the Scots Gaelic phrase for ‘The British Isles’ (Eileanan Bhreatainn) and Prydain.**

**Toscaterza – AU version of the Grand Duchy of Tuscany. The 18 th century was a volatile period for Tuscany. The House of Medici, who had first ruled Florence and then eventually the region, lost the grand duchy once Gian Gastone died in 1737. That meant the title was given to Francis Stephen, Holy Roman Emperor (and Maria Theresa’s husband). It would be ruled by Habsburg-Lorrainers for the rest of the century and most of the 19th, barring when it was annexed by Napoleon. The Tuscans loathed how the new ruling house interfered with their government. That being said, rulers like Leopold II did introduce reforms that gave the grand duchy badly needed stability. The name comes from combining Tuscany’s name in Italian (Toscana) with the word for third (terzo).**

**Ellen’s title – It’s based off of Queen Anne’s title after the Act of Union: Queen of Great Britain and Ireland.**

**Chomesuke’s last name – Based on the historical fact that a group of Japanese samurai once visited Spain in the 17 th century and decided to stay permanently. Their subsequent surname was Japón, after their country of origin. Hers follows the same logic, with me using “Yo” because it’s the romanji reading for another Japanese kanji that means “sun”.**

**Ellen’s mom – Before Hoshino created _D. Gray **-** Man,_ she made a one-shot named _Zone_. In it is a character named Julia, the sister of the hero Robin. Since Allen is based off of Robin, I thought it would be okay to use Julia as Ellen’s mom. Nivose also comes from Zone. As for which country Nivose is supposed to represent… well, I hadn’t thought of that when I was first writing. But after further research, I think Hanau-Lichtenberg (a German county that dissolved in 1736) would be the best fit since it used to have land in Alsace.**

**Black Order Republic – Based off of the Dutch Republic. For most of the 18 th century, the Dutch Republic was experiencing its Second Stadtholderless Period and eroding political and economic power among other European countries.**

**Gamoround Party – AU’s version of the Whigs. The Whigs were the dominant parlimentary party for most of the 18 th century and beyond, eventually transitioning into the Liberal Party. The name comes from combining the term ‘whiggamor’ (literally means cattle driver and is where ‘Whigs’ comes from) and the Roundheads (the Whigs’ predecessor).**

**Cavórai Party – AU’s version of the Tories. The Tories were the minority party for most of the 18 th century, having been purged from major positions of several organizations after the failed Jacobite rising of 1715, and eventually transitioned into the Conservative Party. The name comes from combining Cavaliers (the Tories’ predecessor) and the modern Irish word ‘tórai’ (comes from the Middle Irish word ‘tóraidhe’, which can mean ‘outlaw’).**

**The Kingdom of Noah – Mostly based off of pre-revolutionary France (the Ancien Régime) and the Kingdom of Spain after its succession crisis (Bourbon Spain). It’s structured as an absolute monarchy, of course, with Three Estates (Noah, Skulls and Akuma). The main difference is that France’s First Estate was the clergy. Here it’s the Noah who claim that position. And since the Millennium Earl made the Akuma in canon, I imagine would be taking a lot of cues to how Spain absorbed Enlightenment ideas following the War of the Spanish Succession.**

**The War with the Noah – Mostly based on the War of the Austrian Succession, which started after France, Prussia and other countries challenged Maria Theresa’s right to rule Austria, Hungary and Bohemia due to the fact that she was a woman. It ended with Maria Theresa keeping her crown, but having to give up Silesia to Prussia. The other countries got varying amounts of concessions via the Treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle.**

**Akuma – They’re the vast majority of people in the Kingdom of Noah. Basically the Third Estate of the Ancien Régime.**

**Link’s name – This is going to be mostly explaining the ‘von’ part. There are two ways to use it. Either a) to indicate that that person is a member of nobility or b) to indicate that they’re from a certain region. However, a person can be descended from nobility without using the ‘von’. Not to mention that ‘von’ is now considered to just be part of those surnames that still use it. In this story it indicates that he’s a member of the nobility.**

**Link’s titles – The first one is based on the title belonging to the Electorate of Hanover. The second one is based on the title given to Queen Anne’s husband.**

**Krähe-Zentral – Link’s electorate. It’s not really based on any specific 18 th century electorate, but it’s pretty much like one of the many states that made up the Holy Roman Empire. It’s name comes from the German words for “crow” and “central”.**

**House of Campbell – Mostly based on the House of Stuart, especially with the slips of backstory. The last Stuart ruler in the 18 th century was Queen Anne, who died in 1714. But they also have a few things in common with the House of Hanover, who took over and reigned until the death of Queen Victoria and the subsequent coronation of King Edward VII in 1901.**

**Battle of White Ark – Basically canon’s capturing of the Noah’s White Ark.**

**House of Bookman – Lavi’s family and one of the more eccentric noble families in this AU. They basically move around, like how Jews and the Romani were forced to during the 18 th century. Unlike those marginalized ethnic groups (and the Romani are still greatly marginalized today), however, they are left alone by other countries due to the amount of potential blackmail the family has access to. Which is a _lot_...**

**Tyki’s title – He’s the 3 rd marquess of Joyd. Sheril is still his brother, but they inherited different titles and estates due to their parents’ wills. That’s based on how French nobility were addressed by which estate they inherited.**

**Ellis columbine – AU version of the Tudor rose. The House of Ellis is this AU’s version of the House of Tudor. ‘Ellis’ is a Welsh surname, referencing the fact that the House of Tudor derives from a Welsh noble family, the Tudors of Penmynydd. And columbines are native to England.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the long length of this plot bunny. A lot of it is due to the cultural/world-building notes, but most of it is because I was being my usual over-explaining self.
> 
> I do hope you enjoyed the lemon. This is the first time I've had the guts to type and save it on a computer.
> 
> Alright, before I shamelessly beg for your comments, let me just say “Thank you” to everyone reading. Whether you subscribe/leave a comment/kudo this or not, I really do appreciate it. Especially during these times. So let me give a shout-out to my four subscribers, dannyikigay for leaving this collection's first comment, everyone who leaves kudos and anyone who decides to give this hot mess of writing a try!
> 
> Now back to begging. Please leave a comment! I am dying to know what you guys think of this!


	5. One Step Short...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timcanpy + laundry basket = Ruined knickers
> 
> Miranda + wine = Ruined trousers
> 
> Ellen + lingerie + Tyki + bet = ?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is certainly the most risque of my plot bunnies (so far…). For a while I’ve wondered whether to make one M-rated version of this for both FF.net and AO3 or different versions (with the E-rated one on AO3) for each site. This is because I don’t want to risk the story being removed from FF for its sex scenes. I do like the fact I can write more explicit stories now, but I also feel that means my FF readers miss out if they don’t visit AO3 as well. Hmm… Maybe I should put up a blind poll on FF to see what you guys prefer… 
> 
> Warning: PokerPair; Fem!Allen Walker; Dog!Timcanpy; Smut; Sexy lingerie; Smoking (which is extremely unhealthy – don’t do it); Aged-up Characters; Flashbacks; A little bit of footsie (Guess who starts it~); Probable OOC-ness; Using UK terms despite setting the story in America; Some gratuitous Portuguese
> 
> Disclaimer: D.Gray–Man is never, ever going to belong to me.

_**One Step Short…**_

**\- xXx -**

Looking through a window of Lenalee’s apartment, Ellen spotted a yellow taxi cab pulling up to the front of the building. She was the last remaining member of that evening’s party-goers; everyone else had either returned home or left for greener, liquor-fueled pastures. “It looks like my ride is here.”

“It’s too bad Kanda had to leave the party early,” Lenalee said as she began escorting her friend from her apartment to the cab. “But I guess that problem with his latest landscaping project had to be dealt with as soon as possible.”

Ellen barely repressed a snort of disbelief as they entered the elevator. “I wouldn’t be surprised that Bakanda just took advantage of an excuse to leave without me,” she disagreed. “After all, only Lavi’s constant prodding had forced him to drive all three of us here. And I find it _interesting_ that his client’s call came right after Lavi left with Sachiko and as I was talking with Krory and Eliade about their upcoming wedding.”

Lenalee sighed in exasperation as she watched the numbers for the floor levels descend at an even pace. Was it really too much to ask for Kanda and Ellen to not complain about each other, especially when not in the other’s company? “A mere coincidence, Ellen,” she gently reproached her friend. “Really, it’s not as if Kanda just rushed out of the door once the call ended. He told both of us what was going on before he left. And he wouldn’t have done that if you didn’t have at least one way to pay for a ride back home on you.Surely that proves something?”

Ellen’s lips pressed into a thin line as she gave that thought. Just as the elevator reached the first floor, the British woman broke the protracted silence by reluctantly saying, “Well… I guess he isn’t truly thoughtless…though he can act like it.”

“And just how much did it cost you to admit that out loud?”

“Oh, not much. Just a sliver of my soul.”

The Chinese woman laughed at that last statement, which triggered chuckles from her white-haired friend as well. The laughter kept up as the two women left the elevator and crossed the lobby. It died, however, once Ellen opened the front door and shivered as the cold air from outside hit her.

Lenalee looked at her friend in concern. “Are you sure you’ll be okay going home dressed like that?”

Instead of a pair of skinny jeans or dress pants, Ellen was currently wearing one of Lenalee’s pencil skirts. She had originally arrived to the party in black trousers, but then Miranda accidentally spilled a substantial amount of wine on them. Because this happened right as the party ended, and Ellen didn’t want to inconvenience Lenalee by staying overnight, she was forced to borrow one of the other’s more conservative skirts.

However, that was only true due to the others being miniskirts with hems reaching mid-thigh. Add in the fact that Ellen was two inches taller than Lenalee, and the difference of length between the borrowed skirt and the others was just one inch – well, let’s just say the final result had the British woman showing more skin than she was used to. And left her more vulnerable to the chill of the night.

“You could have also borrowed one of my pairs of leggings to wear underneath the skirt,” the raven-haired woman pointed out while gesturing to her own skirt-legging combo. “They’re better for the cold. Or perhaps you should just stay overnight, like I’ve offered before.”

Ellen shook her head and smiled. “Thank you for your consideration, but I’ll be fine. The taxi will be heated, so it’s not like I’ll have to walk all the home tonight,” she reassured Lenalee as they walked towards the taxi, adding on, “Besides, leggings give me the worst case of camel toe. And I would rather risk that with a pair I own rather than yours.”

However, Lenalee still pursued the topic. “You can always wash the leggings before returning them, you know. Which is what you’ve always done with the clothing I’ve lent you before.”

“Ah… you’re right, Lenalee,” Ellen conceded as the two stopped right beside the cab. “But-”

Her response was cut off by the driver-side window rolling down and the taxi driver leaning out of it. He saw the two women and asked, “Is one of you Ellen Walker?”

“I am,” Ellen confirmed, quietly happy that he had interrupted her response.

The driver nodded and settled back into his seat. The telltale sound of unlocking doors was then heard by the two. Ellen opened the door on her side and slid into the backseat, resting the plastic bag carrying her soiled pants in her lap. She closed the door and rolled down her window to look at her friend now standing in front. “I’ll see you next week, Lenalee,” she said with a smile.

“See you then, Ellen! Have a safe trip home!” Lenalee replied a smile of her own, still quite curious about what her friend was going to say. Oh well, it probably wasn’t too important…

“Where to, Miss?” the taxi driver asked his passenger.

“The White Ark Apartments at 14 Gray Avenue, please,” Ellen said as she rolled the window back up. As the taxi pulled away, she continued to wave at Lenalee from the back window who reciprocated in turn.

Once Lenalee was no longer in view, Ellen carefully sat back in her seat and faced the front. _‘It’s good that I’m sitting behind the driver,’_ she idly thought as one hand smoothed down her borrowed skirt.

_'Accidentally flashing him is the last thing I want happening right now…’_

\- Earlier that day -

“There, all done,” Ellen sighed out loud as she set the basket filled with clean laundry down on her bed. It was the last load she had done today, with all the previous loads piled up nearby and organized by variables like color or type of fabric.

_‘I really should have done this earlier,’_ she wryly thought as her gaze switched from her laundry to her alarm clock. _‘Kanda and Lavi are arriving in less than an hour. I still need to take a shower, dress and do my makeup for Lenalee’s party. That won’t leave me enough time to fold and put everything away.’_

_‘Still,’_ she amended as her fingers lightly twitched, _‘I can’t sloppily leave my laundry like this.’_

Because her former legal guardian, Cross Marian, was quite particular about cleanliness and properly folded clothing, Ellen had formed the habit of putting away her laundry as soon as it finished drying. Which was far better than becoming a drunkard or chain-smoker, in her humble opinion. She still didn’t know why he had been so adamant about her storing her undergarments in the top drawer of whichever room she stayed in, though.

Ellen sighed and glanced back at the clock. She could see that five minutes had passed during her inner monologue.

_‘...I guess it can wait until I’m out of the shower,’_ she ultimately decided. The young woman walked over to her empty hamper and started to strip. After dumping her clothes into the plastic receptacle, she then entered her ensuite bathroom and closed the door.

Right after the gray doorknob untwisted and returned to its resting position, the bedroom door was gently pushed open by a wet nose belonging to a curious dog. His name was Timcanpy, a Soft Coated Golden who has been with Ellen since she was eleven years old. Yet despite his advancing age, the dog still retained the blithe energy of a puppy.

Timcanpy walked into the bedroom, twisting his head around as his nose worked hard in trying to find Ellen. He had just finished his nap and, as he already had his daily walk and didn’t want to play with his toys, wanted her attention. But he hadn’t found her in any of the other rooms in the flat. And he didn’t see her here. So where was she?

That was quickly answered when he caught the sound of rain pelting the ground. As the skies were clear when he looked out the window earlier, Timcanpy realized that Ellen was getting clean behind the room’s other door. He couldn’t help but whine at that; whenever she got cleaned in that room, it meant he wouldn’t see her for what seemed (to him) to be a long while. Which ultimately meant he had to wait for scratches and belly rubs!

Still, Ellen was always happy when he was patient and waited for her to finish whatever she was doing. She would smile and call him a ‘good boy,’ which meant lots of petting and treats. He loved treats! Especially those chicken bits dipped in gravy!

With that in mind, Timcanpy resolved to be a ‘good boy’ by waiting in front of the cleaning room door. That way Ellen would immediately see and praise him for being one!

But no sooner had the crossbreed sat down did he notice the smell of lavender in the room. He turned his head to pinpoint its source: on top of Ellen’s bed. Now quite intrigued, he got up and trotted over to the bed and leapt onto it. He immediately found himself among piles of fabric. They were all recognizable to the dog: towels, sheets, those things Ellen wore over her chest, legs and feet because she had little fur…

Then Timcanpy caught sight of items he never saw around the flat, let alone on her. He sniffed one of them, but they simply smelled the same as everything else on the bed. So then he took the next step…

\- x -

Ellen shut off her blow dryer and inspected herself in the bathroom mirror. Because her hair was short, the time taken to blow dry it was much shorter compared to other styles. Now for the finishing touches.

After unplugging the dryer and putting it away, she grabbed the hair serum and applied it in order to give her snowy locks shine. But just as she finished and was about to grab her makeup case, Ellen heard the sound of cloth ripping… coming from her bedroom.

_‘What on God’s green earth?’_ Confused, the young woman opened the bathroom door and walked into her bedroom. She stopped dead in her tracks, however, once she caught sight of her beloved dog mauling a pair of emerald green polka-dotted boy shorts to death as he laid upon her bed.

“Timcanpy!” she screamed in horrified dismay. “What are you doing?!”

Timcanpy excitedly turned his head to look at Ellen as soon as he heard her voice. But when he saw the look on her face, he realized that something was wrong. That wasn’t the look that meant that Timcanpy was a ‘good boy.’ It meant that he did something she thought was wrong; that he was a ‘bad boy.’ And instead of getting treats, he wouldn’t get anything. Not even a single glance in his direction!

Realizing how badly he screwed up, the whimpering Soft Coated Golden leapt off the bed and ran out of the room with his tail between his legs. The ruined pair of boy shorts were still clamped between his teeth.

Ellen let him go, too shocked at first to even try to retrieve her mouth-trapped underwear. But soon she snapped out of her stupor and walked over to her bed to fully assess the situation.

On one hand, Tim had left most of her clean laundry unmolested. There was a little shed fur sprinkled about and faint impressions of paw prints; but overall her sheets, towels and clothing were fine.

On the other hand, however, there was one type of clothing that was utterly decimated by her dog: her knickers. Regardless of style or fabric, Timcanpy had subjected them all to his very sharp teeth. That last fact was especially upsetting, for that meant not a single pair could be salvaged; not even for rags. The damage was just too extensive.

Ellen buried her face into her hands and groaned. _‘What do I do now?’_ she helplessly lamented to herself as she slid down to the floor in just a towel. _‘Every single clean pair of knickers was ruined! Yes, I could try to wash the pants I have in the hamper – but the laundry room is in the basement, while I live on the eighth floor! It will still take time to get down there, wash and dry them despite whatever I save by taking the lift and selecting the small load setting.’_

She spared a glance at the clock and winced. Thirty minutes had passed since she last looked at it, meaning that Kanda and Lavi will arrive in about twenty minutes. _‘Oh, I knew I shouldn’t have taken so long in the bathroom. The party is going to be at Lenalee’s place with only our closest friends there, after all. I truly didn’t need to use hair serum…’_

As Ellen silently berated herself, Timcanpy poked his head through the bedroom doorway. Seeing his favorite human kneeling on the floor in a slumped position brought out a whine from the terrier. Unlike the other times he whined though, Ellen didn’t respond.

Despite the lack of a reaction, Timcanpy quietly padded into the room and stopped besides Ellen. There he placed the ripped and drool-soaked garment by her leg before nudging at her arm with his cold nose, trying to let her know that he was sorry about before.

Nothing.

Now he whimpered and whined, begging for her to do anything as he rubbed his head against her.

Still nothing.

Finally he laid down on the floor and rolled over, exposing his belly in the ultimate pose of submission and pleading with his large round eyes.

Not even a twitch.

Defeated, Timcanpy morosely rolled back onto his belly and laid his head down with a whimper.

As he silently stewed in his sadness, Ellen removed her hands from her face and chanced a look of her immediate surroundings. She saw the returned boy shorts, damaged beyond repair. But she also saw the guilt Timcanpy felt for his actions hover over him like thick London fog.

She sighed, then smiled and reached out to scratch him behind the ears. This startled the dog and he quickly turned to her with his head tilted in confusion.

“It’s alright, Tim,” Ellen soothingly said as she moved her fingers to under his chin. “I know you didn’t mean to be naughty.” She sighed and looked at her bed, specifically at the rest of her laundry. “If anything, I should have put them awa- oof!”

Ellen’s self-critique had been swiftly cut short by Timcanpy excitedly jumping on her.

She giggled helplessly as he tried to drown her with slobbery, thank-you-for-not-being-mad dog kisses. “Tim!” she cried out. “Please, stop! I’m happy, too; so you need to calm down, okay?”

After a few more moments of enthusiasm, her dog finally settled down on the floor with merely a fast wagging tail. Ellen combed her hand through his fur before her mind returned to the most pressing matter: her lack of clean undergarments.

_‘It’s too late to go buy new knickers,’_ she realized as she looked at the clock once again. _‘It takes thirty minutes to walk to the nearest retail store and back. And that estimate doesn’t factor in going into the store, selecting the pants, standing in a queue, and paying for my items!’_

Ellen stood up and started pacing around her room, followed along by her dog. _‘Public transport can cut travel time down. A taxi or Uber even more so. But they each have flaws. The first one will add on time waiting for the bus, plus all the stops along the way to the store. The latter two – well, all of them, really – require me to leave my flat… sans knickers. And I would rather much avoid that!’_

There was a third option of asking Kanda to stop by the store before they leave for Lenalee’s party, but the young woman wasn’t even going to consider it. She was not going to owe him any sort of favor if she could help it! And trying to hide her reason for last-minute shopping would more than likely blow up in her face. Especially because Lavi, who was also coming along, was just too inquisitive for her current peace of mind.

Ellen’s pacing took her by her drawers, whereupon she noticed that her top drawer which normally housed her knickers jutted out into the air. She moved her hand to close it, then noticed something curled up in a shadowy corner. So she reached in and pulled it out to take a closer look.

Her eyes grew wide when she recognized it. Held in her hands was a pair of lingerie knickers – part of a set she had impulsively bought a few weeks ago. Its style was quite different compared to her normal fare of boy shorts and bikini cuts. Instead the lingerie took the form of a purple G-string with lacy straps and sheer front and backpieces shaped as stylized butterflies, whose antennae and other details were illustrated by rhinestones and embroidery in one color shade darker.

But what made it especially risque was the blatant fact the G-string was crotch-less.

_‘I shouldn’t be even contemplating this,’_ Ellen uneasily thought as she bit her lip. _‘Wearing this to Lenalee’s party… it’s just too ludicrous for words!’_

_‘Still, it is the last undamaged pair around. And I do plan on wearing trousers…’_

She took one last look at the clock before making her decision.

_‘I hope I won’t regret this…’_

\- Back to the present -

“Here we are, miss,” the driver announced as the taxi cab pulled up and parked in front of Ellen’s apartment building. “Your fare is twenty dollars and fifty cents.”

Ellen retrieved her credit card, thankful for Lenalee’s consideration in offering a skirt with pockets, and handed it to him. “Thank you,” she said after getting back the card and opening the door, “and have a nice night.”

“Same to you,” the driver replied as she exited the vehicle.

As the taxi sedately drove off into the night, Ellen turned around and entered her apartment building. The white decorated lobby was devoid of people, making her acutely aware of every minor sound that occurred. She quickly made a bee line for the elevator, so as to avoid walking up the stairs and thus running into that one guy who creepily hung around the stairways late at night and leered at the female residents. It gave her chills just thinking about how he would react to her current situation…

Thankfully the ride up was taken in solidarity and she safely reached her floor. Soon she was at her front door, fishing for her keys. The young woman was dimly aware of Tim barking, but didn’t give it much thought. She recognized it was his happy-to-be-playing barking, which was likely due to amusing himself with his toys. Then again, the neighbors might say something if he got too loud…

Ellen slipped the key in and swiftly unlocked her door. She entered the flat and walked towards the living room where Tim was most likely located. “I’m back, Tim,” she announced with a smile. “Did you miss me while I was gone?”

“I don’t know about him, but I certainly did.”

Surprise wiped the smile off her face once she heard that all-too familiar voice. Her lilac eyes, which had gently shut as she anticipated Tim’s enthusiastic response, now quickly snapped awake to confirm that _he_ was actually in her flat.

And they did. There, dressed like a vagabond, nonchalantly sitting on her couch while playing tug-of-war with her dog, was Tyki Mikk.

Ellen reached down to pet her dog, who now realized she was home and ran towards her with excitement and furious tail-wagging, but still kept her eyes on her unexpected guest. “Tyki? What are you doing here at this time of night?”

“What do you think? I was in the area and wanted to see you, _menina_ ,” the tall man replied as he dropped Tim’s rope toy, got up and ambled towards her with a lazy smile.

“That vague statement doesn’t exactly explain how you got into my flat, seeing as how I never gave you an extra key,” the young woman sardonically stated. “Care to elaborate, Mikk?”

Tyki roguishly grinned before sticking his hand into his left pocket and pulling out the answer: a slender metal pick.

She fixed a blank look on the pick for a few seconds before heaving an exasperated, but amused sigh while rolling her eyes. “Are credit cards just too good for you, then?”

“They bend too easily,” the older man shrugged in response. Then he glanced down at her skirt and looked back at her with a black eyebrow raised above his eyeglasses. “And it looks like I’m not the only one delivering surprises tonight, _menina_. Going for a new look?”

Ellen blushed and tugged the skirt’s hem further down. “It’s more of an unfortunate coincidence, really. Miranda tripped over a bit of carpet and spilled her drink on my trousers, so Lenalee let me borrow one of her skirts to go home in,” she explained as Tim gave an interested sniff at said article of clothing.

“Hmm… well, she certainly has good fashion sense. You look good, _menina_ ,” Tyki complimented her with a lazy smirk.

“Don’t think flattery will make me overlook this instance of housebreaking, Tyki Mikk. You should have at least called me,” she scolded him, though it was slightly undermined by the flash of amusement visible in her eyes.

“I would have done that, _menina_ , if not for Timcanpy recognizing my scent from the other side of the door and started barking like mad. I had to calm him down before your neighbors complained,” Tyki patted the dog in question on the head with one hand, “and once I saw the note about the party on your kitchen calendar… well, naturally I had to stick around for your return.”

Ellen forced down the sudden impulse to smile at that excuse and started walking towards her hallway bathroom. “Oh, yes. That’s exactly the rational response to not finding someone at home. I’ll be sure to tell that to any bobby looking for you regarding future housebreaks.”

But just as the young woman’s fingers touched the doorknob, Tyki wrapped his arms around her waist and hugged her from behind.

“How disappointing, _menina_ ,” the older man faux lamented, for she could clearly hear the teasing tone of his voice. “You have a long-time friend so eager for your company that he patiently waited with your dog for several hours, and all you do is shake your head and scold.”

Ellen didn’t say anything at first. Then, keeping her face away from his gaze, she responded with, “Someone has to keep you out of jail, Tyki. Otherwise I wouldn’t have a friend to regularly beat in poker.”

Tyki frowned and slightly moved back. “More like chea- Ooof!”

Ellen took the opportunity to ram her elbow into his ribs, forcing him to release her as he stepped back. Now free, she quickly entered the bathroom and locked the door, leaving Tyki to grimace as he tentatively rubbed the now forming bruise.

“Why did she have to use the left one?”

His muttered complaint was only answered by a tilt of the head and a soft woof from Timcanpy, who had watched Ellen and Tyki’s strange interactions with total confusion.

\- Meanwhile, in the bathroom -

Ellen dumped her stained trousers into the sink and turned the hot water knob halfway. As the young woman waited for it to fill, she looked into the mirror and frowned once she saw the blush hidden from Tyki still present on her cheeks.

_‘That didn’t mean anything, Ellen,’_ she reminded herself, ignoring the memory of how his body heat managed to warm her back through both his and her clothing. She shut off the water once it was high enough and began to thoroughly soak the trousers. _‘He was simply being his normal, touchy, exasperating self.’_

Ellen grabbed her hand soap and started applying it to the wine-stained areas. Vigorously rubbing them together to create a frothy lather, she mentally added, _‘Not to mention he called himself your “long-time friend”. Aside from his compliment, nothing about his actions so far suggest any kind of change.’_

_‘Just like all those other times…’_

The rubbing slowed down until it stopped altogether. Ellen heaved a sigh as she put the trousers back in the sink and sat down on the toilet seat. The cooler temperature of the porcelain penetrating through the skirt reminded her of the fact she was still wearing the crotch-less thong. Which in turn reminded her of what the saleswoman had said once she bought the set last week at the mall.

_“I guarantee you’ll get anyone you want with this, Ma’am!”_

At the time Ellen had just politely smiled back and thanked her for the help, but now she stifled a groan of frustration into her hands. _‘If two years of trying to hint to Tyki that I would rather be more than friends hasn’t worked, then how will a bloody lingerie set do the job?’_

The young woman sighed again as she reflected on her friendship, crush, and so far unsuccessful pursuit of the older man. The friendship started when she, at age fifteen, walked by the then nineteen year old Tyki and his five year old niece Road at a park. Almost immediately upon noticing Ellen, the little girl quickly ran over and latched onto her waist. After trying and failing to remove Road, the other two settled on making small talk in order to pass the time before he and his niece had to return home.

Eventually poker came up among the more inane topics and Ellen, always keen for a game, suggested that they play for whatever money they had on hand.

Tyki had raised an eyebrow at her and said, _“I don’t play against kids, menina.”_

Ellen hadn’t known a word of Portuguese at that time. However, she was no stranger to a prospective opponent dismissing her based on just one look. So she smiled back and _innocently_ mused aloud, _“So your ego is that fragile, is it?”_

And with that challenge, Tyki consented to playing one round with her – which she won with a well timed royal flush. He was shocked, then asked for another round to get his money back. This started a cycling of Ellen winning and Tyki demanding rematches, until he was finally left sitting on the bench in his underwear and being laughed at by Road. But instead of being furious at Ellen, the nineteen year old smirked and teasingly asked, _“Should I take my current state of undress as an indication of how attractive I am to you, menina?”_

She snorted with wry amusement as she returned his clothing. _“Don’t flatter yourself. You’re not the first man I’ve stripped down during a poker game, and you certainly won’t be the last.”_

He nearly choked in disbelief at her response, then let out a round of genuine laughter. _“And you’re the most interesting girl I’ve met,”_ Tyki replied, prompting Ellen to lightly blush.

By the end of that first meeting Tyki and Ellen had exchanged cell phone numbers, leading to the exchange of several text messages and hanging out whenever they could.

It was one of her more interesting friendships, given that the Portuguese college student had a fascinating duality about him. He came from a rich and well-connected family, but enjoyed slumming in low-class neighborhoods with his friends. He was very handsome and could dress well, but preferred wearing unflattering clothes and eyeglasses because they were comfortable. Several women and some men flirted with him whenever they were in public and he _was_ dressed up, but he rarely accepted their offers and instead laughingly teased Ellen about the people who asked _her_ out. Sometimes he was easy-going, other times he had a bit of a sadistic edge. All of his contradictions were strangely intriguing. Overall, she just enjoyed spending time with him.

Then, after over a year had past, Ellen realized something: she had developed a small crush on Tyki. At first she thought nothing of it; she’d had a few crushes before, and none of them had lasted long. So long as she kept in mind that he only saw her as a friend, the crush would wither and fade on its own.

Only it didn’t. Instead it grew as Tyki spent time with her, teased her, jokingly hugged her…

So Ellen tried dating other people, but that didn’t work either. She looked forward to meetings with Tyki more than her dates, and eventually stopped altogether once the guilt over using nice people in such a manner grew too much.

Then she continuously kept in mind the women Tyki did date – tall, elegantly dressed, hourglass-silhouetted beauties with a generous bosom and long luxurious hair. It hurt to think about how little she matched up to his type – Ellen was taller than the average woman and overall pleasant looking; but her hair was short; her waist was gently, rather than dramatically, curved; she had an abstract facial scar that started above her left eye and nearly ended at her jawline; and her womanly assets were… pretty modest – but said pain also served to reinforce just how doomed her crush was.

Especially when combined with the facts that she never saw Tyki date the same person twice, he most likely wouldn’t appreciate the affections of someone four years younger than himself, and their state’s age of consent was 18 – meaning that she could get him into _legal_ trouble if anyone else misinterpreted the situation.

Yet, the only thing she didn’t do was withdraw from Tyki’s life. The lack of interaction would have helped kill her crush, yes, but she couldn’t bring herself to do that. If she couldn’t have his heart, she was certainly not going to give up his friendship.

That was how Ellen spent the next four years: hanging out with Tyki while making sure he never knew about her true feelings for him. She also took care not to let her other friends know about her predicament. Though judging by the looks she would occasionally get from Lenalee, Kanda or Lavi, she was less successful in the latter endeavor.

Honestly, had it not been for yet another fight with Kanda, she would have continued hiding how she felt. The exact details of how and why the fight happened were unimportant. Actually, it had no connection to Tyki or her unrequited crush whatsoever. But one of Kanda’s crude statements, “Stop acting like you’re still fucking sixteen years old, _moyashi_ ,” struck a chord with her and made her later reflect on how she felt towards the Portuguese man and what she should do at that time.

Ellen’s feelings might have started as a young girl’s crush with a mysteriously fascinating older man, but what fueled and elevated them to a more sustaining level were those moments where she just saw him for who he was. Moments where he made her laugh. Moments where he made her hit him for saying or doing something ridiculous. Moments where they shared tales about their respective pasts. And moments where they just sat together, enjoying the other’s presence. The young woman treasured every single one of them… and she wanted more. She wanted to create more with him, but as a lover rather than a friend.

And hiding said feelings was the right thing to do back when Ellen was a teenager. But she was a woman in her twenties now; an adult by most measures, especially in regards to consent. Besides, women these days didn’t wait about and hope for their significant other to magically realize they were meant to be. No, they had agency; they put in the hard work and effort for their romantic endeavors to blossom.

Thus began her mission of letting Tyki know that she was in love with him. At first she decided to go for the direct approach: simply tell him how she felt and ask him out on a date. Unfortunately that attempt was badly timed, for when she arrived at his apartment early in the morning before he left for work, the door had been answered by a blonde woman. Who was exactly Tyki’s type. And was wearing his shirt… and nothing else.

Seeing her, a person who appeared to have been recently intimate with Tyki and now was giving her a look of bored curiosity, greatly shook Ellen’s newfound confidence. Then Tyki came out to greet her and the woman asked who she was. Thankfully she turned out to simply be his cousin whose attire was the result of a flat tire, nasty weather and the propensity of sleeping nude if not provided with some type of sleepwear.

However, while introducing Lulu Bell to Ellen, Tyki used the white-haired woman’s nickname. A nickname that always bothered her once she had learned its English meaning. On that day, however, it did more than just bother her; it drove a spear of ice through her heart.

_Menina._

Girl.

_A child._

How could she expect Tyki to at least consider her romantic feelings, let alone accept them, if he didn’t even _think_ of her as an adult?

So Ellen ended up not telling Tyki anything that day and set aside the direct approach for another plan: subtly signal and convey that she was all grown up, then tell him how she felt. This new endeavor led to the young woman taking special care to wear outfits that would highlight her best attributes whenever they went out. Or sit nearly glued to his side in private, inviting the possibility for more intimate touches. She even wore a ballgown – picked out by Lenalee and approved by a quite giddy Road – and learned how to waltz in order to accompany Tyki to a formal event he had to attend, due to it being hosted by his older brother Sheril.

But none of that worked.

Tyki’s eyes never seemed to stare at Ellen the way other people did – appreciative and lustful. The borderline cuddling did lead to side-hugging, but more of the friendly type accompanied with him teasing and messing up her hair.

And as for the formal event? Well, Tyki did dance with Ellen, but that was only to prevent her from losing patience with one extremely persistent guest who just couldn’t understand the concept of a woman refusing his advances. Afterwards, they spent the rest of the evening sitting down while talking and sampling the finger food. Oh, she had enjoyed that experience as well, but compared to their waltz – during which one large hand rested on the small of her back, bringing their bodies close enough that she had to fight down a blush, while the other gently cradled her own; his golden eyes stared only into hers as he teased her, yet _again_ – it wasn’t the same, and the constant interruptions from one of his family members (particularly his brother) cut into the time she had with him.

_‘And so, two years have past with me no closer to my goals,’_ Ellen sighed morosely as she finished the inner-analysis of her love life. She got up from the toilet seat to check on her trousers. Once she saw the water had been dyed pink by the wine, she unplugged the sink and started rinsing the piece of clothing.

_‘Where do I go from here? It feels like no matter what I try, he can’t see me as anything more than the fifteen year old he befriended years before.’_

Ellen moved on to wringing them with her bare hands. Her current mood made her put far more strength into the activity than was strictly required.

_‘Just what will it take to get through his thick head that I-’_

A short knock cut through her thoughts. “Hey, are you okay in there?” Tyki asked from the other side of the door.

She turned her head and said, “Yes, Tyki. I’m just treating the stains before I put the trousers in the wash.”

“What did your friend spill on them, anyway?”

“Red wine. Luckily I prefer wearing black trousers, yeah?” she half-joked.

Tyki snorted in amusement. “Not to mention you know how to handle red wine stains, given who used to be your guardian.”

“Don’t remind me,” Ellen groaned at that reference to Cross. But her lips couldn’t help but twitch into a smile as she heard his responding laugh.

“Anyway,” Tyki said after he finished laughing, “I wanted to let you know that I brought over some food for you earlier that I’m reheating right now.”

That information certainly interested her. “Is that so? And just what did you bring?”

“Well, I was in a _saudade_ mood, so it’s mostly Portuguese dishes I picked up from the import store. You know, stuff like _caldo verde_ , _bifanas_ , _frango piri piri_ , _polvo à lagareiro_ , and _pastéis de natas_. And before you ask, I made sure to bring enough to fill your stomach.”

A loud gurgling sound echoed throughout the bathroom. _‘How did he get food into my flat without me catching the slightest whiff?’_

“Heh… Sounds like you appreciate my effort, _né_ , _menina_?” Tyki teased.

“Oh, belt up,” Ellen grumbled in embarrassment, her face burning from her red-hot blush. Her only consolation was the fact he was on the other side of the door and thus couldn’t see it.

Tyki laughed again and continued, “Anyway, the food will be ready in about ten minutes. Can you wait that long?”

Ellen rolled her eyes and opened the door wide enough for her to stick her head through. “I do have _some_ patience, thank you very much,” she huffed as she sent him a dry look.

Tyki grinned and ruffled her hair. “Great. See you in a bit, then,” he said before walking back to her kitchen.

Ellen frowned and fixed her hair, but decided free food was worth not complaining about his immature action. _‘Besides, I could use the time to do some impromptu washing…’_

She grabbed the trousers and was just about to exit the bathroom when she remembered her current clothing predicament. Then headed straight to her bedroom.

_‘… After changing, of course.’_

\- x -

Ellen sighed in contentment after swallowing the last sweet mouthful of a _pastel de nata_. “That was truly excellent,” she happily remarked as she dabbed at her mouth with a napkin. Then she looked at the food containers on the kitchen table and winced; she had completely cleaned them out, save for the bits she gave Tim before he left to nap in the living room. “Are you sure you didn’t want any of it?” the young woman asked her friend. “You had taken the trouble to bring all of these dishes here, after all…”

Tyki just shook his head. “It’s okay, _menina_. I already ate earlier today. And I can’t fault you for enjoying the food so much you licked the plates clean,” he grinned while lighting up a cigarette.

Ellen blushed with embarrassment and swiftly changed topics. “So, has anything interesting happened to you this week?”

“Eh, not really,” Tyki replied as he helped her clear the table. As they were moving the dishes, the young woman grabbed the black and white ashtray kept for Tyki and Cross’s visits from a cupboard and handed it to him. He just placed the ashtray on the table before returning back to her side and opening the small kitchen window. “Road and Wisely dropped by a few days ago with a message from the Earl, but it wasn’t anything important. I just had to help bail out Jasdero and Devit for joyriding and drag racing again.”

Ellen absently nodded as she placed the last of the dirty dishes in the sink and started washing them. “Anything else?”

Tyki’s glasses then took on a mischievous glint as Ellen passed him a dish towel so that he could dry. “Well…Clark, Momo and I were talking about going over to the Kirilenko casino later this month.”

“And you were planning on leaving me out?” she frowned.

“Hey, we have to give the other patrons a fighting chance. If you come, everyone else will go broke after an hour of your swindling. Even the casino.”

Ellen pretended to pout as she handed him a freshly-washed dish. “Like you all wouldn’t cheat at the first opportunity.”

“Yes, but we’re not as merciless as you,” Tyki countered.

“Oh?” Ellen questioned with a raised eyebrow. “Shall I remind you of that time you suckered in my friend Krory, who had never even _heard_ of poker before then?”

Tyki involuntarily shivered as he relived that memory. “Was it really necessary for you to make us wait three hours in the cold before giving back our clothes?”

“Yes, because you deserved it.”

“See? Merciless,” Tyki teased, this time dodging the mock-jab to his side.

Ellen rolled her eyes at his subsequent chuckles before asking, “So I take it Clark and Momo are fine as well?”

“Yup,” Tyki confirmed. “Eeze’s doing okay, too. He wants to know when’s the next time you can stop by.”

Ellen smiled. Eeze was a sweet lad of eleven and Clark’s younger cousin, forever following about the group of men as they roamed the city. She liked talking to him whenever Tyki brought her over to the younger boy’s house. “Tell him I can visit two days from now, after I finish my shift at Jerry’s. And I’ll bring over leftovers from the restaurant for everyone.”

“Alright,” Tyki nodded as he added another clean plate to the stack on his right. “I just know that’s going to make his day once he hears about it.”

Ellen tilted her head with amusement, lilac eyes still locked on the casserole dish she was soaping up. “Oh? Am I really that entertaining a guest? Or will he be looking forward to the free food?”

The older man shook his head. “It’s for a completely different reason, actually. Eeze… well, he has a bit of a crush on you.”

Surprise nearly caused her to drop the dish. She hastily put it down and turned around to ask, “What? Really?”

“Yeah. You never noticed just how often he would stare at you and blush?” he asked.

Ellen sheepishly transferred her gaze to her feet, feeling a little foolish. “No…”

“Well, to be fair, his face mask hides most of the blushing,” Tyki consoled her with a head pat. “But I wouldn’t worry too much; it’s just a crush from a _menino_ , after all.”

Ellen was now glad she was looking down, for she didn’t want Tyki to see the brief flash of pain in her eyes. But then she took a deep breath, carefully schooled her features, and turned back to the sink. “Still, I should talk with him about it during my next visit,” she said as she picked up the dish and turned on the faucet.

Tyki raised an eyebrow over his thick eyeglasses. “Are you sure? You don’t have to go out of your way to do that.”

“But I do,” she countered while rinsing off the dish. “It would be disingenuous of me to just pretend I know nothing about his infatuation when I do. I have no plans to accept his feelings, of course; but I still have to acknowledge them.”

Ellen handed it to Tyki and grabbed another dirty one. “I guess I’m a bit flattered, too. Eeze is such a kind, courteous and hard-working boy. Certainly the type of personality you would want someone who likes you to have,” she softly laughed as she applied water and soap.

Tyki chuckled as he dried the newly cleaned dish. “And I can see the reason why he fell for you; your consideration for others would melt anyone’s heart.”

Ellen shyly smiled at the compliment – but that contentment quickly turned to embarrassment once Tyki joked, “Well, that and the ‘older woman’ angle. The latter’s pretty much catnip for boys his age.”

“Tyki!” the young woman screamed out as she whipped her head in his direction. Seeing him laugh at her expression, she scowled and splashed him with water before turning back to the sink.

“Aw, don’t be mad at me, _menina_ ,” Tyki cheekily crooned as he rested his head on top of hers and loosely wrapped an arm around her shoulders. The other arm was held away from their bodies, due to the cigarette now resting between his fingers.

Ellen continued her fierce scrubbing, too annoyed at the man to be flustered by his antics. “Hmph!”

“What can I do to make amends?”

Ellen paused in her scrubbing as a slightly eerie light entered her eyes. “Well,” she calmly replied while fighting down a smirk, “there is one thing…”

\- x -

“ _Eu deveria ter ficado calados_ , (I should have kept my mouth shut,)” Tyki grumbled to himself.

The two had finished with the dishes and were sitting at the kitchen table once more. Now their hands were preoccupied with playing cards; Tyki’s personal deck, to be precise. They had already played a few rounds of poker – all losses for him, which left a neat pile of winnings by Ellen’s side. Said pile included several items of his clothing. Cigarette smoke floated from the stick happily lodged between Tyki’s lips to escape through the kitchen window.

Ellen simply smiled at him. How she loved playing against the Portuguese man. No matter how many times he lost, and even with the knowledge that the odds were against him, he never turned down a game with her due to his gambling compulsions.

_‘Plus, there are other benefits,’_ she couldn’t help but think while discretely glancing at him over her cards. Since his shirt was among the items she won earlier, Tyki’s bare chest was very nicely displayed for her viewing pleasure. A very lovely consequence of him continuing to play despite running out of money.

_‘Yet another reason why my crush didn’t fade away…’_

“And I’m quite glad you didn’t, Tyki,” she nearly chirped. “It’s your turn to draw, by the way.”

The Portuguese man sighed, but still discarded two cards and drew their replacements with a light smirk. “Careful, _menina_. I just might win this round,” he lightly taunted as he exhaled smoke from an earlier puff.

“We’ll see. Are you ready?”

At Tyki’s nod, both of them confidently laid out their cards on the table. Tyki had four of a kind created by nines; Ellen had a jack-high straight flush.

_“Droga (Damn)!”_ he groaned over his loss.

Ellen slightly smirked at her win. “You know what to do, Mikk,” she quipped while covering her eyes with her left hand.

She heard Tyki’s sigh, then his chair sliding against the floor and a zipper being undone. The young woman kept her hand over her eyes until she heard him place his pants on the table and sit back down.

“I guess we’re done for today,” she mused as she looked over at her massive winnings.

But Tyki immediately gathered up the cards and started shuffling them once again. “Maybe not; I’m still up for one more round.”

“Oh?” Ellen raised an eyebrow and joked, “And just what would you bet? Because I have no use for your knickers. Or your coffin nails, for that matter.”

“I was thinking more of a winner-takes-all, actually,” Tyki clarified. “I win, I get all my stuff back. That includes every little cent I entered your apartment with.”

Ellen couldn’t help but roll her eyes at that. Really, Tyki made it sound like she never returned his things after their games… Well, she would return his clothing, cigarettes and cell phone. Money depended on what mode of transportation he was taking and whether Cross had dropped by with another debt for her to pay off. “And if I win?” she asked after pulling herself away from that mental tangent.

Tyki smirked and said, “If you win, then I’ll do whatever you say for the rest of the night.”

It took Ellen a few moments to process that proposal; once she did, her jaw dropped as she felt her heart skip a beat. “Are you actually being serious about that last part?”

“Why not? It means that we both have good incentives for winning.” Tyki smirked as a mischievous look entered his golden eyes, highlighted by the reflection of his cigarette’s burning end. “Unless, of course, you think you’ll _lose_ this time.”

Ellen hurriedly closed her mouth and an affronted frown affixed itself on her face. “In your dreams, _Mikk_ ,” she all but growled out.

“I take it you’re in, then?”

“Yes. Now deal.”

Tyki chuckled at her terse command and dealt out five cards for each of them. After they both gathered their respective cards, he quickly scanned his hand before asking, “Do you mind if I draw first this time?”

“Go ahead,” Ellen replied, looking at her own hand. But then she flinched after she felt something brush against the side of her right leg. She placed her cards face down and checked underneath the table, wondering if it might have been a bored Timcanpy looking for attention. But instead of seeing her Soft Coated Golden, she instead saw Tyki’s legs.

His long legs.

His long, _bare_ legs.

And his boxers.

His _form-fitting_ boxers that had an _interesting_ outline of his-

“Is everything okay down there?”

Ellen jumped in response to hearing Tyki’s question and nearly hit her head on the underside of the table. “I-I’m fine!” she rushed out before sitting back up and shielding her red face with her cards. “It’s just that I felt something touch my leg and thought it was Tim.”

Tyki raised an eyebrow as he glanced behind himself to search for the dog in question. “Seeing as he’s still asleep, it probably wasn’t him, _menina_.”

“Yes,” Ellen nodded as she agreed, “I realized that when I saw nothing except-”

Her eyes widened as she remembered one important fact: Tyki’s legs were long enough that they could, theoretically, reach her side.

_‘Wait. Could it be-?’_

She took in a deep breath before hesitantly asking, “Um, Tyki?”

“Yes?” he responded, eyes once again on his cards while his free hand flicked ash onto the ashtray.

“Did you happen to stretch out your legs earlier? And did one of them, or perhaps a foot… brush up against anything?”

The Portuguese man blinked in confusion before understanding came upon him. “Wait, that was you? I thought my foot bumped against a chair leg. Sorry about that.”

_‘So that’s what happened,’_ Ellen thought as she smiled. “It’s okay, Tyki. It was just an accident, after all.”

Tyki grinned and gestured to the deck of cards with his head. “Thanks, _menina_. Now, haven’t you forgotten something?”

Ellen playful rolled her eyes at his unsubtle signaling, then examined her cards. She had the Ace of Hearts, two eights – one of diamonds and the other hearts, Seven of Clubs and Five of Spades. Not a great hand, to be honest, but still somewhat salvageable. She’d just have to draw the _right_ cards…

The young woman discarded all but one card. But just as her fingers moved over to the deck, she felt another surprise touch… right on top of her knees.

“Eep!” Ellen squeaked in surprise. Her fingers curled enough to inadvertently grasp and draw cards as her arm jerked back. She stared at Tyki’s wide grin for a few seconds while she tried to figure out what just happened. Once she did, the British woman blushed and slammed her hands – and cards – on top of the table while abruptly standing up. “What the bloody hell was that?!”

Tyki assumed an innocent expression. “What do you mean? I was just stretching my legs again.”

“Oh don’t play dumb with me, you wanker,” an embarrassed Ellen glared at him. “Your foot _happened_ to find its way to my knees? Just when I was about to draw a card?”

“Okay, so that might have been a dirty trick,” he freely and nonchalantly admitted. Ignoring her responding eye twitch, the man stared at her long-sleeved shirt – specifically the sleeve covering the arm which drew the cards – and continued, “but it’s not like you don’t have an edge of your own.”

Ellen’s lips thinned into a terse line. As much as she hated to admit it, he was right. “Still, did you have to do that?”

Tyki shrugged rather shamelessly. “It was effective. Now, since you’ve drawn…”

The young woman barely held in an incredulous snort. “Seriously? You want to continue the game after pulling that stunt?”

“Might as well. Who knows? Maybe you got lucky earlier,” he said, although the light twinkle in his eyes gave away his real motivation.

“Or,” Ellen countered, moving to sit cross-legged in her chair so as to avoid any repeat offenses, “we simply redo this round with new cards.”

Tyki groaned at her new tactic. “Aw, please, _menina_ ; let’s just play our hands! What’s the harm in taking risks?”

“Depending on the situation, a lot. You of all people should know that,” she huffed, slightly amused by his borderline-pouting.

Tyki stopped slumping on her table and sent her a calculating gaze. “I would sweeten your end of the deal if you do.”

Ellen paused the denial that nearly left her mouth and instead adopted an interested look. “I’m listening.”

Seeing that she was playing along, Tyki offered while taking a slow drag of his cigarette, “I’ll extend the time limit for doing whatever you want from just tonight to tomorrow as well.”

She mulled over what he just said, then locked gazes at him. “Hmm… I don’t know. One and a half days doesn’t seem long enough to me.”

“Three, then.”

“And what about yourself?” she asked, because she knew he wouldn’t be offering that type of bet without trying to sneak in something for himself.

“Me? Hmm, besides getting my stuff back, I’ll just have the pleasure of finally beating you in poker,” Tyki replied, eyes narrowed and mouth stretched in a smirk. The tobacco smoke now seemed to frame his visage. “Which is something I’ve been looking forward to for a _long_ time.”

Ellen snorted at his statement, then started to consider the new deal. _‘It’s a tempting offer, but still risky,’_ she counseled herself. _‘I don’t even know if my new hand is good or not.’_

But before she could slowly raise her face-down cards to check, the young woman caught the cocky look on her opponent’s face. It was practically daring her to take the easy way out; to reject the new bet and restart the round. And even though she would win, he would never let her live that perceived act of cowardice down.

_‘Don’t fall for it, Ellen,’_ her rational side strongly warned. _‘He’s only trying to rile you up so that you’ll do what he wants. Do the sensible thing and turn him down.’_

“Of course,” Tyki mockingly sighed out, “if you’re too scared…”

And with that, pride trumped caution.

“Deal.”

The Portuguese man’s eyes flashed with delight at her snappily delivered answer, and he chuckled rather deviously as he spread out his cards on the table for her to see: a king-high straight flush, clad in spades.

“Your turn,” he smirked.

Mentally kicking herself for being too hasty, Ellen sighed and peeked at her cards so that she could brace herself for defeat.

She stared at the playing cards for a few moments. Then calmly, without a hint of any negative emotion, laid them face-up.

Tyki’s grin was quickly wiped off once he recognized her hand. Even his cigarette threatened to fall to the table.

Ace of Hearts.

Ace of Spades.

Ace of Diamonds.

Ace of Clubs.

And a Joker.

Simply put, a five of a kind; the highest hand possible in a game that allowed wildcards.

“You have got to be kidding me,” he said with eyes glued to the thin slips of card stock, too shocked to do much else. “How the hell did you manage to get that?”

Ellen sat tall in her chair with a satisfied smile. “Just luck, I suppose. Now, what were you saying earlier about following my _every_ command?”

Realizing that the tables had well and truly turned, Tyki groaned and covered his eyes as he leaned back in his chair.

The young woman outwardly chuckled, but actually felt nervous on the inside. What should she do now that she had won? Immediately give Tyki orders tonight until he has to go, or postpone it to tomorrow? Actually, what kind of orders should she make?

_‘Well, you could make him kiss you.’_

Ellen straightened in her seat, taken aback by the stray thought of her conscious. _‘What,’_ she mentally questioned, fighting to beat down her blush, _‘do you mean by that?’_

_‘Exactly what I said,’_ her conscious dryly responded. _‘Have Tyki kiss you. Or just go up to him and do it. Either way would work, honestly.’_

Her blush won the battle. _‘Why?’_

_‘What do you mean ‘why’? You were just complaining earlier about him not seeing you as a woman. A kiss would certainly do the trick… particularly delivered on the lips.’_

Now Ellen’s entire face was going red. Her pulse was speeding up as well.

_‘But an even more effective tactic,’_ her conscious continued, _‘would be telling Tyki that you love him.’_

The young woman’s heart leapt up into her throat. _‘I-I can’t do that!’_ she mentally babbled.

_‘Why ever not?’_

_‘Because-’_

_‘Because it would ruin your friendship? Don’t give me that nonsense. You haven’t wanted to remain his friend for two years now.’_

Ellen discretely swallowed. _‘But-’_

_‘Oh, now you’re going to make more excuses, eh?’_ her conscious ruthlessly cut in.

_‘It’s not that simple,’_ the young woman retorted as she glared at her clenched hands in her lap. _‘I tried the direct approach already and-’_

_‘No, you didn’t. You turned craven once he called you “menina” in front of Lulu Bell.’_

Ellen physically flinched at the biting statement.

_‘I know that day was upsetting, and I can understand why you switched to indirect approaches,’_ her conscious continued, now using a gentler tone. _‘But all of them have failed. There’s only one way now, and you can’t let your insecurities get the better of you once more.’_

_‘… but what if it goes poorly?’_

_‘Then at least you won’t regret not saying anything, and will be able to move on.’_

After that last comment from her conscious, Ellen chanced a peek at Tyki.

The Portuguese man was no longer leaning back in his seat, but neither was he looking at her. Instead he was taking another drag of his cancer stick, eyes fixated on some invisible point of her ceiling. He then moved the glowing stick out of the way as he released the smoke from his mouth, nicotine clouds exiting in a slow manner. Ellen was suddenly reminded of those vintage tobacco advertisements; how such a toxic habit was made glamorous by an elegantly put together man or woman. And despite his state of undress, Tyki’s aura perfectly matched the mood those people projected for the camera.

After the last smoky tendril was exhaled, the older man sighed and returned the cigarette to his lips. Then he caught sight of Ellen’s gaze and lazily smirked.

“Well, it looks like you won, _menina_ ,” Tyki languidly sighed. “What’s your first command?”

Ellen sharply inhaled at his question. The earlier comments from her conscious rushed back to mind.

_“You haven’t wanted to remain his friend for two years now.”_

_“A kiss would certainly do the trick… particularly delivered on the lips.”_

The young woman released the breath unwittingly held hostage and whispered out, “Close your eyes.”

Tyki raised an eyebrow as he failed to hear her. “What was that, _menina_?”

Ellen cleared her throat and repeated her previous sentence in a louder voice. “First, I would like for you to close your eyes. Please.”

The Portuguese man raised a slightly confused eyebrow at her demand phrased as a request, but shrugged and complied with it.

“Alright, my eyes are closed,” he said after inhaling and exhaling another smoke cloud. “Is there anything else?”

Feeling a bit more confident now that he couldn’t see her, she got up from her seat and responded, “Stay where you are.”

Ellen walked around the table and stopped right behind Tyki. Then she grasped the back of his chair and smoothly pulled it a few inches away with him still sitting down.

Tyki gave a low whistle, nonplussed at his younger friend’s show of strength. “Impressive. Are you secretly a super heroine, _menina_?” he teased.

Ellen huffed in amusement as she moved in front of him. “You already know the answer to that, seeing as you do occasionally watch my sparring matches at the gym, Tyki.” A small smirk unseen by him then made its way onto her face. “Or were they too lax?”

“Since when would slamming a person flat on their back after breaking free of an arm hold be considered ‘too lax’?” the Portuguese man bemusedly shook his head, eyes still shuttered. “I think all your fights with Kitchen Knife have warped your expectations regarding the appropriate intensity for sparring.”

“You might be right about that,” the young woman conceded. “Kanda has never held back in a fight, regardless of whether or not his opponent is female.”

“How like him to choose a slightly violent way to express gender equality.”

Soft chuckles bubbled up in response to Tyki’s dry quip, but quickly subsided once Ellen realized that she was in danger of losing her nerve if they continued to banter. So she willed her fingers not to shake as she gently pluck his cigarette from his lips and extinguished it.

Tyki frowned now that the familiar weight of the cancer stick was gone. “ _Menina_ , why-?”

“It would have gotten in the way,” Ellen hastily explained.

“Oh?” he teasingly asked. “In the way of what?”

The young woman then gently took hold of his cheeks and tilted his face upwards. The man’s usual air of laid-back ease gave way to surprise as he felt her softly brush his face with her thumbs.

Drawing up every ounce of courage she had inside, Ellen closed her eyes and whispered out, “This,” before leaning down and pressing her lips to his.

The young woman felt a plethora of sensations as soon as she kissed him. The warmth of Tyki’s lips against hers accompanied by delicious tingling. The scent of his preferred tobacco brand wafting into her nostrils with every inhale. Butterflies madly fluttering in her belly. Her heart’s frantic beating fueled by the sheer fact that Ellen was doing what she had only dreamt of for so long…

And for a seemingly infinite moment, she waited for his reaction. Would he push her away in utter rejection? Would he break the kiss and ask why she did it, necessitating her to confess and thus nervously wait for his response? Or perhaps-?

Then she finally received an answer: a deep growl that reverberated against her lips, indicating that Tyki was the one producing it. Afterwards she felt his hands take hold of her waist and sharply tug her down to straddle him.

Ellen’s eyes snapped open and she let out a gasp as her hands lost their grip on Tyki’s face. The young woman froze once her posterior landed on his lap, and was too shocked to try to escape. But her bewilderment was soon swept aside once he, with a hand grasping the back of her head to keep it still, took control by thrusting his tongue in between her parted lips and into her mouth. The flexible appendage quickly seduced her own into feverishly intertwining. And rather surprisingly, the sharp taste of tobacco wasn’t off-putting. In fact, it greatly complimented what she could only describe as his natural flavor.

The twenty-two year old whimpered as the sensual invasion replaced the earlier butterflies with quickly multiplying sparks of pleasure. She soon began instinctively rocking her hips while clutching at his tanned shoulders. Tyki seemed to appreciate her actions, given how his tongue stepped up its intensity and he was now fully crushing her to his body. She even felt something twitch, grow, harden and press against her groin. Only two layers of clothing kept them apart…

Eventually, and somewhat disappointingly, oxygen became too much of a pressing need and their mouths were forced to separate. Ellen let out a shuddering sigh as she rested her head into the crook of his neck. She listened to his breathing slowly recover from their prolonged lip-lockand felt him lay a hand – the right one – upon her hair. But instead of ruffling it up like earlier, the twenty-six year old man slipped his long digits between fine strands and began a series of slow strokes that tempted her to purr like a contented feline.

“Tyki… you weren’t just following orders at the end, right?” the young woman asked with a sense of serenity flowing through her veins.

Tyki moved from carding his fingers through her hair to twirling a white lock around his index finger as he countered with a question of his own. “What do you think, _menina_?”

Ellen ignored that cursed nickname in favor of mapping out his right collarbone with her fingertips. “That you might view me as more than a friend. That you’re physically attracted to me. That you… possibly even love me.”

“Hmm…” Tyki hummed to himself before he stopped playing with her hair in favor of entangling his fingers into a grip that tilted her head up towards his face. The young woman inhaled a sharp breath once she noticed how his gaze focused upon every minute particle that made up Ellen Walker. All with an intense sensuality that made her very core tremble with need. “Which answer would you prefer?"

With a sudden rush of boldness overtaking her, she leaned in and whispered against his lips, “You mean the _truth_ that I _need_. I’m in love with you, Tyki Mikk. My feelings deserve your honesty, even if I won’t like hearing it.”

Tyki let loose a low chuckle filled with mirth. “ _A verdade? Eu te amo, Ellen_.”

It took a few seconds for the young woman to mentally translate his confession. 

It took a few more for her mood to transition from tense suspense to sheer joy.

Releasing a breathy laugh of relief, Ellen wrapped her arms around his neck and began showering his face with kisses.

“I take it you’re happy?” Tyki grinned after the two shared a lingering one upon the lips that warmed both of their insides.

“Of course I am, you git,” Ellen breathlessly sighed, lilac irises glowing from her happy tears. “I’ve been dreaming of you saying that for six bloody years.”

The older man looked at her with surprise. “But that means-”

“That I was sixteen when I first started to fancy you? Yes. But because I was still considered a minor by state law, and you wouldn’t have appreciated being labeled a nonce, I decided not to say anything in the hope it would go away.” A slightly wry smile took up residence on her face as she added, “Though ‘twas all in vain, as evidenced by the last few minutes.”

The Portuguese man laughed and started caressing the length of her right side with his right hand as the other wiped away the remains of her tears. “Then what made you confess tonight?”

The young woman sighed and leaned into his touch. “Winning your bet. It gave me the perfect opportunity to demonstrate that I’m not a… _menina_ – a ‘little girl’ anymore.”

A thoughtful frown appeared on his face as he asked, “You thought I didn’t see you as an adult because of my nickname for you?”

Ellen nodded and smiled at the older man, relocating his hand to her hip before wrapping her arms around his neck. “Yes, but that doesn’t matter in the end,” she reasoned while closing her eyes and leaning forward to rest her forehead upon his. “Not when you finally do from this moment onward.”

Tyki silently digested her last statement. “You know,” the young woman heard him finally say, capturing her attention, “ _menina_ actually has multiple meanings…”

“What? But when I first looked ‘ _menina_ ’ up seven years ago, it definitely translated to ‘little girl’,” the young woman said.

“Did you use Google Translate?” When she nodded in confirmation, Tyki laughed with amusement. “While that app can be useful for a word’s literal definition, it’s success rate regarding actual use in conversation is generally not as good. Such as in the case of ‘ _menina_ ’, whose context radically changes when used in regard to a _mulher_.”

Ellen’s eyes widened. “How does it change?”

Deviously chuckling, the Portuguese man slowly pulled the British woman forward so that her breasts were molded to his front before letting both hands roam. Clever fingers teasingly worked their way up her spine and along the tops of her thighs. And despite her long-sleeved shirt and sweatpants preventing complete skin-ship, his proximity and caresses were causing a deep flush to rage across her face and her heart to flutter madly.

As Ellen tried to regain control of her senses, the man himself revealed, “If it’s a woman the speaker isn’t close to, then ‘ _menina_ ’ would come across as belittling; even insulting, if used in Portugal rather than Brazil. However, if she is someone that the speaker adores…”

The young woman attentively waited with bated breath for him to complete that last statement. When it became clear he wouldn’t, she gently grasped his chin and turned his head to face her. “If they adore her, then…?” she prompted, receiving a smirk in return.

“You already know how it ends, _menina_.”

“I suppose I do,” Ellen admitted while a pale index finger began exploring the rise of his lips and the smirking seam in between. She noted how golden eyes keenly followed her finger’s movements, as well as the low, sensual growl emanating from his throat. An attempt from him at playfully biting the digit resulted in her withdrawing it to deliver a teasing finger-wagging. “Nonetheless, it would be quite pleasing to hear you say it out loud.”

_‘And which would allow me to further learn about the progress of your own feelings,’_ the young woman confided to herself. She was _immensely_ curious about the exact moment he went from seeing her as just another friend to falling in love with her.

Tyki, on the other hand, was less eager for conversation. “But wouldn’t you rather take part in more pleasurable actions?” He cheekily went on to demonstrate what he meant by grabbing her hips and grinding his own upwards. 

“Mmm…” Ellen moaned and arched her back in pleasure. His newly-returned erection pushed the fleece fabric of her black and white checkered sweatpants against her now-damp core, creating some rather delightful friction. “Unfortunately, I fear those actions will be limited by certain factors.”

He stopped grinding and directed his gaze at one of the factors in question. “Hm…”

“Don’t even think about it, Tyki,” she asserted.

“Don’t think about what?”

“Ripping my joggers down the middle with your bare hands so that you can get to my fanny.”

“Now how did you come to that conclusion, _menina_?” he asked with an innocent look on his face.

In response, Ellen tapped one of his hands – both of which were tautly gripping the fabric of her sweatpants – and sent him a droll look.

The older man smirked. “It is the easiest option,” he justified without any shame.

“Easiest for you, perhaps,” she snorted. “But I’ll be the one left with a ruined pair of joggers. As if the incident with Tim earlier wasn’t bad enough…”

Tyki stole a look at Timcanpy – still sleeping in the living room – and arched an eyebrow in question. “Just what did he do?”

As the British woman explained what Tim did, Tyki’s face switched from showing mild curiosity to brief shock… and finally settled on perverse amusement. By the time she was finished, he was outright laughing.

“It’s not funny, Tyki!” Ellen hotly complained, pinching his right cheek. “Tim completely mauled every pair of knickers I had in that basket!”

“Sorry, _menina_ ,” he continued to snicker, despite winching from the pinch. In a show of apology, he wrapped his arms around her back and rubbed it with soothing motions. “But you must admit, the story _is_ quite humorous. And it’s not as if your dog left you without any underwear. You still had whatever was left in your drawer.”

However the young woman, instead of huffing or rolling her eyes in reluctant amusement, stiffened in his arms and stared at him with a wide gaze. 

“Well…” she trailed off, looking down towards the ground, “in a manner of speaking, that’s true…”

“What do you mean by that, _menina_?”

After chewing her bottom lip – and thus temporarily diverting Tyki’s attention for its duration – Ellen began explaining, “I did have one pair of knickers left. However, it… was originally bought on a whim of sorts. What’s more… it was originally designed with a very _specific_ scenario in mind.”

The Portuguese man bemusedly absorbed what he had just been told. That last statement was particularly strange. From what he understood, the underwear in question wasn’t just a variety she herself avoided wearing everyday; it was the kind where daily use was far from its intended purpose. Like-

Golden eyes widened in sudden realization.

“You’re wearing lingerie,” Tyki stated in a surprisingly calm voice, given the rather intense look now occupying his face.

“Yes. The bottom part of a two-piece set, to be precise…” she confirmed with a nod. The blush staining her cheeks grew more vivid as she felt his erection twitch against her groin.

He wrapped his right arm around the young woman’s waist and gave it a squeeze, further sealing their bodies together. And as his left hand placed itself on her hip and burrowed a thumb underneath her sweatpants’ waistband, he crooned out, “What kind?”

“A… a crotch-less G-string, with butterflies trying to serve as some form of coverage.”

Peaking from underneath her eyelashes, Ellen keenly observed how his entire body went completely rigid and his face adopted a blank look – temporarily, that is. Then a wide grin, accompanied by lusty fire burning within his eyes, quickly took over. “In that case…”

She let out a squeak as he abruptly stood up, forcing her to wrap her arms around his neck and her legs around his hips. His hand was now using the excuse of supporting her bottom to get in a cheeky squeeze. “Why don’t we retire to a more appropriate location?”

The young woman blinked. “I must admit, I was expecting to be laid out on the kitchen table and thoroughly ravished after you roughly rid me of my joggers,” she confessed in bemusement as Tyki began walking towards her bedroom.

“That tempting thought did cross my mind, _menina_ ,” he acknowledged with a chuckle. “However my plans for your body would be even better if the delectable confection hiding underneath your pants was joined by its friend up top.” His grin grew even more salacious as he added, “Though once you change… you won’t be able to leave your bed for a long time.”

The hidden subtext was so blatant, a blind man stumbling about in the dark could grasp it. 

But that didn’t stop Ellen from eagerly looking forward to that scenario.

The twenty-two year old kissed her soon-to-be lover’s jawline, sending an approving groan to leave his throat. “Is that so…?” she mused as they reached her bedroom door. “Then I have one more order for you, Tyki.”

“What is it, _menina_?” the older man asked just as he twisted the doorknob and opened the door.

“That _you_ won’t be leaving _my_ bed until I can. Unless that statement was just an empty boast.”

“Oh, that wasn’t a boast,” he smirked. The last thing he said before they crossed the threshold to her bedroom and were cut off from view by the retreating piece of wood was, “It was a _fact_.”

\- Sometime later that night -

Timcanpy was abruptly woken up by a sudden loud noise, and became quite confused.

It sounded like a human groan of sorts; not the type produced when a human was hurt or annoyed, but rather when their hormone and pheromone levels were elevated in response to meeting a potential mate. It was also lower pitched, in the range typically produced by a male.

That groan was then answered by a moan, which was also the kind produced by arousal instead of pain. But the moan’s pitch was much higher than the groan’s, strongly indicating it had been produced by a female.

Before the dog knew it, the previous silence hanging about the living room was mortally wounded by a strong stream of moans, groans, pants, whimpers – every type of noise a human could produce that could signal either pleasure or pain.

Now, the Soft Coated Golden was well acquainted with those kind of sounds. When Ellen was still the human version of a puppy, Cross had taken advantage of her being away at that building humans called ‘school’ to bring over attractive (by human standards) females to their current den. Many times the older man and his at-the-time mate would retire to his room for a long while, leaving Tim on the other side of the door; a bemused witness to their combined noise, as well as strong smells.

So Timcanpy wasn’t fazed by exactly what he was hearing. But he was puzzled by why; after all, Ellen didn’t have any mates – at least, none that she brought home with her.

And yet, several of those sounds had definitely come from her. Now that he thought about it, the male groans sounded familiar as well…

Then the dog scented the air and caught faint traces of human sweat, pheromones, hormones and other miscellaneous scents related to mating coming from the direction of Ellen’s bedroom. Now brimming with curiosity, he leapt off of the settee and loped over to the source.

Tim ignored the noises interspersed with words – which ranged from pleads to demands to just monosyllabic shouts such as ‘Oh!’ – and instead lowered his head to scent the air coming from underneath the door. After a few inhales, he confirmed that Ellen really was mating in her bedroom. He also verified the identity of her new mate: Tyki, a male who she always had her eye on but never approached for a long time – and who, to Tim’s knowledge via scents, returned the interest but also refrained from acting until now.

Satisfied that he knew all of the details, and happy that she got the one human she always wanted, the Soft Coated Golden returned to the settee and settled down to try to sleep. Its cushions weren’t as soft as his bed in her bedroom…

… but, given the circumstances, they would have to do.

**\- … of Going Commando -**

**Cultural Notes:**

**Soft Coated Golden – Designer dog cross between a Golden Retriever and a Soft Coated Wheaten Terrier.**

**Flat – UK term for apartment.**

**Knickers & pants – Two UK terms for panties.**

**A queue – UK term for a line you wait in.**

**Trousers – UK term for pants.**

**Lift – UK term for elevator.**

**Bobby – UK slang for police officer. It, along with ‘Peeler’, derives from the name of the man who founded London’s Metropolitan Police Service: Prime Minister, Sir Robert Peel (tenure: 1841-1846). These two nicknames weren’t originally given as compliments, however. Robert Peel wasn’t particularly liked by many people (including Queen Victoria); not only due to his lack of social skills, but also because the other police force he founded (the Royal Irish Constabulary, which was eventually succeeded by the Royal Ulster Constabulary) was liberally used by absentee English landlords to quash Irish civil unrest and nationalism for 100 years. In fact, it was the Irish who came up with ‘Bobbies’ and ‘Peelers’ for the RIC; Londoners picked up the insults because they didn’t see the new MPS as any better at first. But because the MPS had several rules and practices (couldn’t vote in elections, needed permission to marry or even eat with civilians, had to wear their uniforms at all times, etc.) so that they could be held accountable, they were slowly able to win over the public.**

**The wash – Another way to say ‘the laundry’ in the UK.**

**_Saudade_ – One of the most difficult Portuguese (and Brazilian) concepts to explain. It’s like a mix of nostalgia, longing and sadness for past things or experiences that you can no longer partake in, but still think fondly of.**

**_Caldo Verde_ – A green soup made with potatoes, collard greens, olive oil, black pepper and salt. Typically served at events like weddings and birthdays in Portugal. Originates from the Minho province.**

_**Bifana** _ **– Traditional Portuguese sandwich comprised of a light, crusty bread roll and pork strips seasoned with garlic, spices, and white wine. Has several regional varieties and is considered street food.**

_**Frango piri piri** _ **– Grilled chicken (sometimes marinated) with piri piri chili sauce. Normally served with either rice or fries. Originates from Mozambique and Angola, two African countries that were once colonies of Portugal.**

_**Polvo à lagareiro** _ **– Boiled and baked octopus with mashed potatoes in a herbed garlic oil. Common throughout Portugal, though some claim it comes from the Beiras region in between the Douro and Tigus rivers.**

_**Pastel de nata** _ **– Creamy egg tart dusted with cinnamon. First created by Catholic monks of the Hieronymites Monastery (Mosteiro dos Jerónimos) in Lisbon before the 18th century. The treat was originally a way to use up egg yolks left over from when the monks did laundry using egg whites. After the Liberal Revolution of 1820, which led to many of Portugal’s convents and monasteries being closed down, the monks started selling the tarts to a sugar refinery to make ends meet. Then once the Hieronymites Monastery finally closed down in 1834, the monks sold their recipe to the sugar refinery’s owner; who would open the Fábrica de Pastéis de Belém three years later. And guess what? The same family runs it to this day!**

**Belt up – UK phrase that means “shut up.”**

**Four of a kind – A poker hand where you have four of the same ranked cards.**

**Straight flush – A poker hand where you have five sequentially-ranked cards.**

**Smokes, cancer stick, coffin nail – Other words for cigarette.**

**Wanker – UK term for a jack-ass.**

**Five of a kind – A poker hand where you have five of the same ranked cards. Only possible with a wild card.**

**Nonce – British slang for paedophile.**

**Meanings of _menina_ – Based on what I could find on the Internet (an admittedly fickle source at times), there are roughly three ways to use this word. Though even then, it can be tricky to pin down, depending on whether or not the speaker is Brazilian or Portuguese. First, it could mean a young girl or teenager. That’s how Brazilians use it; the Portuguese would use _rapariga_ to describe a girl. Second, it could mean a woman the speaker is attracted to or wants to get to know; like how English-speaking men might refer to women as ‘babe’. This meaning is used in both Brazil and Portugal, but mostly in the former than the latter. That is because the final meaning of _menina_ is… a prostitute. Actually, people in Portugal usually use its plural form ( _meninas_ ) when they want to convey that final meaning. It’s just like how the people in Brazil use _rapariga_ … So, what’s my final point? It all depends on context.**

**Jogger – UK/Ireland/Australian/New Zealand/South African term for sweatpants.**

**Fanny – UK slang for female genitalia.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Kirilenko casino is named after the mine that Tyki and his friends were heading towards in chapter 42 of the manga.
> 
> Boy, did this one vex me! It took me sooo long to write out Ellen’s confession – mostly because I struggled with how to write it without letting her come across as too sentimental. Then there was how context affects the meaning of menina… and how to reveal her underwear situation to Tyki… and the revisions… Did you know I started writing this back in April? It’s taken over five months to complete! Which, along with this fic’s word count, greatly contradicts what I originally intended DGM Plot Bunny Round-Up to be – a place to quickly dump the stray story ideas that plague my brain… 
> 
> Oh, who am I kidding? That was never a viable option at any point of time. I just can’t help adding details. And for all the moaning I just did, I really am proud about this chapter. I even have ideas for sequels~
> 
> Sources used – Wikitionary; Historic UK; Wikipedia; Reddit (r/Portuguese, u/Matosinhoslover, u/Cariocecus); Cambridge Dictionary; WordReference Forums (user: pfaa09); Quora; Portugalist and any other websites I used to look up Portuguese cuisine but now have forgotten.
> 
> Please leave a comment! Constructive criticism helps me to improve my writing. Which, in the long term, will improve your reading experience! Everyone wins! 
> 
> Stay safe!

**Author's Note:**

> Due to the fact that this was originally on FF.net, updates will significantly slow down once all chapters are re-posted here.


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